


When The Sun Goes Down

by ArrowOlicityLover



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), olicity - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 52,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArrowOlicityLover/pseuds/ArrowOlicityLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Arrow are working on a case about a bomb in the Glades. But the case has an unexpected twist — one that will change Oliver and Felicity’s friendship. (Set Sometime around Season 2 Episode 12, Tremors.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When The Sun Goes Down

**Author's Note:**

> Warning! There's a sex scene at the end! If that's not your thing, TURN AWAY NOW!
> 
> Secondly, this was originally posted on my 'Arrow' blog site, arrowolicitylover.wordpress.com. I've decided to put it here since I've turned it from the original planned one-shot to a chapter story, and wordpress doesn't have the ability to post the chapters together.
> 
> The rest of this note is taken directly from what I wrote on the blog site.
> 
> Okay, so this was inspired by a little tease Stephen Amell made in his 400K Q&A Part 1 video (search his Facebook for it if you haven’t seen it). He was asked what his favourite scene is, and part of his response was “It takes place in ep. 12, after a gigantic explosion.” (I bet you all the die-hard fans started thinking about what the scene actually has in it.) And after talking with @CammienRay & @OlicityLovers (who I dedicate the whole story to!) on Twitter about it, this fic came to life. Most of you will remember that I posted a TEASER of this a while ago. Well, this is FINALLY the full version! Thanks for waiting! :)
> 
> I also wanted to thank Kate Gregorash (Twitter- @klgregorash) who kindly proofread the entire thing! She’s my ‘fine tuner’ that I love to bits! I’m so grateful for everything she does for me, & I look forward to her fine tuning every Olicity fic I do in the future! :) mwah Kate! And thanks to Jasmine (aka pizneyland on Tumblr) for the beautiful manip photo of Olicity that features on the left of the cover art! When I posted the fic earlier in the week, I’d completely forgotten to thank her! Her work inspired the end of this fic, & I’m very glad & grateful she let me use her work in my cover art! So thanks Jasmine!
> 
> THIS IS A ONE-SHOT FIC! But Kate did tell me that she got to the end & went “BAH! I hope this is just going to be chapter one or something!” So, I’ve been thinking… If I get enough interest off people from reading this, I will turn it into Chapter 1. So comment away! Have decided to make it a Chapter 1! Stay tuned for Chapter 2! Am planning on putting the chapters on a different site, so I can have the chapters all together (can’t do that here — not the way I want to anyway). I’ll post on here to let you all know when I have done that.
> 
> Disclaimer: just the usual I don’t own it stuff.
> 
> Enjoy, and please comment!  
> ———————————————————————————————————————————–

 [](http://arrowolicitylover.files.wordpress.com/2014/01/when-the-sun-goes-down-cover-final-vers.jpg)  


* * *

 

She frantically works on disabling it and I anxiously pace as I keep an eye out for anyone who may want to stop us.

“Felicity.”

“I… I… hang on,” she replies.

There’s a _click_ and she exclaims a triumphant ‘ _Ah-HUH!_ ’ – I smirk, knowing she’s doing that cute fist pump she always does. But then she groans, before muttering, “Oh, come _on!_ ”

I spin to look at her, instantly seeing her brow furrowed.  I look at the timer – five minutes. If we don’t get this disabled…

“Talk to me, Felicity.”

“Uh… I… I don’t know! I’ve tried _everything_ to stop it, but… I can’t get it to stop. Either I’m cutting the wrong wires, or this is one hell of a complex bomb.”

“Hey,” I whisper, crouching beside her as I place a hand on her shoulder. “Stay calm. I trust that you can stop this.”

She looks at me and practically whispers, “What if I can’t?”

I squeeze her shoulder. “Leave it to me.”

She meekly smiles, eyes full of worry. She turns her attention back to the wires and screen on the bomb in front of her. Two and a half minutes to go.

She sighs. “There’s only _one_ option left.”

“Do it.”

She looks at me. “Be ready to get us out of here quickly. This might not work.”

“I’m always ready. Just do it.”

She gulps as she turns back to the bomb. She then reaches into the space where she’s been working, grabs fistfuls of wires, and…

_… Yanks them all out_.

The timer stops – 1 minute, 30 seconds left. We smile, both looking to the other as we laugh in relief.

Then it beeps and we both whip our heads towards it. It’s counting down again. _Faster_.

“ _Crap_ ,” she mutters.

I grab her arm and pull her to her feet – she yelps, grabbing her tablet. I keep a hold on her arm as we run towards the windows. I hook my arm around her waist, pulling her against me. I spin us, shielding her as best I can as we smash through one of the windows.

We’re barely through when the bomb explodes.

****

**24 Hours Earlier**

Sometimes I wish I could sneak back out whenever I walk into the foundry while he’s training. He’s _so captivating_ – shirtless to show off his incredibly well-toned body, sweat glistening in the light that just screams for me to stare at his gorgeous yet damaged from those five years of hell on Lian Yu (“where _nothing good happened_!”) skin. Just the sight of him like that – muscles working almost effortlessly as he moves about – sparks heat in my belly, the longing all too much to handle. That’s why I wish I could sneak out. But lately it feels as if he hears far too well, for he usually stops and looks at me before I can turn back around and leave.

Today, though, he takes me by surprise when he continues to hit his wing chun dummy (I’ve tried hard lately to learn the proper names for his training apparatuses), with his back to me, and says, “Felicity.”

“Uh…” I gape. “Oliver.”

He continues sparring, the noise of his eskrima sticks hitting the dummy echoing through the space, as I settle at my desk. I turn my computer on and wait for it to boot up, eyes focused on the screens as I try extremely hard not to stare at him. Then he grunts loudly and I look up just in time to see him snap one of his sticks in half. He drops it and I see the other one already broken on the floor. He turns around, crosses to me, and for a moment I’m too lost staring at his abs. It’s not until he waves his hand in front of my eyes that I even register he’s talking to me.

“Huh?” I look up and into those stunningly beautiful blue eyes.

He frowns. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I reply. “Dandy.”

His eyes narrow, doubt written all over his face, and so I smile at him. _No way in hell I’m telling you I was perving on you_.

“How’s the search going?”

I turn my focus back to my computers. “Considering I’ve been here mere minutes, the same as it was last night.” _No success yet._

I resume the search on my computer.

“How’s the kid?”

I frown, turning to look at him. “Kid?”

His eyes shift to the roof and he sighs, “Allen.”

“Fine. His boss has him working long hours,” I reply, turning my focus back to my computer. “Barry thinks it’s his punishment for faking being sick so he could come here.”

“Serves him right,” he mutters.

I spin to my right, to face him, and glare. “Had he not lied and come here, then you’d be _dead_ right now. Think about that the next time you’re about to have a go at him.”

I see the hurt in his eyes, the wounded pride from my remark. I won’t apologize though. I’ve held back a lot of comments about his girlfriends and exes – all the women he’s slept with over the last year – but I won’t tolerate him being mean about someone as kind as Barry. He has to learn that if we can’t judge his romantic choices, he can’t judge ours.

“Where’s Dig?”

“You gave him the night off, remember?” I reply. “He’s with Lyla. Not that it’s _really_ any of your business.”

He lets out a shaky breath. “Have I done something wrong?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Because you’ve been rather snarky with me tonight.”

“Perhaps it’s you asking me stupid questions.”

Bracketing both arms on the armrests, he leans in to trap me there – using his large frame to intimidate me

as his face lingers just a little closer than it should. I look at him, keeping a straight face as I hide the fact that my heart’s in overdrive right now. I can’t let him see what this does to me. He won’t stop doing it if I do.

“I just wanted an update on how your search for what we need is going.”

“You should’ve waited a while longer to ask. Give me the chance to work on it for a while.”

“And when I asked about… _him_?”

I narrow my eyes at the tone – the bitterness – as he said ‘him’. “I _really_ don’t get why you’re so judgmental when it comes to Barry.”

“He did nothing but lie to us from the start.”

I raise my eyebrow. “So did you. A laptop peppered with bullet holes from spilling coffee on it, a fake treasure hunt, using a syringe to hold a sports drink because you had ‘run out of sports bottles’… need I continue?” I reply. “At least his lies were more believable than yours.”

He clenches his jaw. “That was different.”

“How?”

“Felicity.”

“What? Just because he _isn’t_ a millionaire that was ship wrecked on an island? Or maybe it’s the fact that I finally found a friend that isn’t you or Dig.”

“No, that’s not—”

“Then _what_? I told him your secret because you needed _saving_. It was either that or expose your identity to the _entire city_. So I _really_ can’t see why you’re being so snarky about the man that helped us save you.”

He clenches his jaw, and for a moment I forget I’m angry at him because my _lord_ he’s so sexy right now, and close enough for me to grab him and kiss.

“I never really liked that Allen kid.”

“No, _really_?” I sarcastically reply.

I catch in the corner of my eye the flashing on my computer screen, so I turn to see what’s happening. He looks too.

“Bingo. We have a hit.”

“Where?”

“There,” I say, pointing to the information on the screen.

He huffs. “That’s not what I meant, Felicity.”

“I know. I just…” I look at him and smile cheekily, “…couldn’t help myself.”

He tries to hide his smile, but I see it before he can. There’s a slightly awkward moment where I reach around his right arm to get at my keyboard – which ends when he straightens up, allowing me to swivel my chair to once more face my computers.

“Seems like there’s an abandoned building that’s been used as a delivery address for Ammonium Nitrate,” I reply, reading through the information. “It’s a rather large amount, too.”

“Remind me what that’s used for again?”

“Other than being a high content in most fertilizers, it’s used in bombs, which is what we’re interested in it for. When mixed with many different chemicals, it can create a highly explosive mixture. Done in a large quantity, you could level a wide area of Starling – maybe even level it _entirely_.”

“Where’s the building?”

I scan the information. “The Glades. Why is it _always_ the Glades that are targeted by these sorts of things? Surely if you can afford to build a device big enough to level it, you’d go for where the rich people are…” I realize what I’ve just said. “Not that I’m saying I’d be happy if someone _did_ , because that would mean your family would be caught up in it… 3… 2… 1.”

He places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “The Glades have always been Starling’s weakness. The area that could be crippled the greatest by these sorts of situations.”

“Also the area with the highest rate of crime in the city.”

He nods. “Exactly why people like whoever is behind this choose to attack it. Almost all who live in the Glades have nowhere else to live. They’re the most vulnerable. This is why we need to ensure that they’re safe.”

I smile. “Good thing that they have the Arrow protecting them.”

A small smile flashes across his lips. “They also have the Arrow’s Girl Wednesday—”

“It’s Girl _Friday_ ,” I correct him. “I don’t know _how_ many times I have to correct you on that.”

“What if I’m making my own version of it?”

I raise an eyebrow, not completely sure what he means, but I don’t press him any further. “You forgot Diggle.”

He smiles, holding back his laughter. “Wasn’t given a chance. You pounced on the Girl Wednesday.”

I tilt my head, lips pressed together as I look up into his eyes. His lips curl upwards in the corners, a playful smile appearing as he chuckles.

“I’m going to go check this building out,” he says as he turns away and crosses to his green suit in its glass case.

“I’ll send the address to your cell,” I reply, turning back to my computers.

****

I walk down the stairs, bow in one hand as I push back my hood. She’s still here, fingers flying over the keys.

“Felicity.”

She jumps, startled by the noise, and then looks over her shoulder to me. “Oliver.”

“I wasn’t… expecting you to be here.”

“I now work as your E.A – which, by the way, I’m _still_ not okay with – but at least it means I can afford to stay here longer.”

I let go of my bow, safely on its stand, and turn to her. I cross to her as I say, “That’s one of the reasons why I made you my E.A.” I stop beside her, keeping the real reason for her change of title to myself – the one I will never _ever_ tell her – I did it to be closer to her. I want to be able to see her all the time, without having to come up with a reason why. “There was enough of that Ammonium Nitrate stuff there to build either one gigantic bomb… or several smaller ones.”

“Stored in the one spot?”

“Yes,” I reply, not understanding why she’s concerned about it.

“Stored incorrectly or exposed to heat or any ignition source can trigger it into violent combustion. It could very easy level the whole building,” she says. “And most likely, given how much of it is there, it would level the neighborhood.”

“All the more reason to stop this now.”

She tilts her head, lips pressed together. Every time she does it, it reminds me of when we first met – when she wasn’t buying my terrible lie. In this case, though, it’s her way of telling me not to point out the obvious.

“What’s our next move?”

She sighs. “Much as I hate to leave it unfinished, we should go. I’ve been trying to find out more about who made the orders, but…” she sighs, “It’s… they’ve used a fake name. Well, not fake – just… not their _real_ name. They’ve stolen the identity of a deceased person, which is _totally_ committing fraud.”

“Hey,” I place my hand on her shoulder, “We’ll find them.” I wink.

She smiles, but it’s forced. Because there’ll always be the doubt that we’ll fail a mission. I want to reassure her, but I just don’t know how. Usually it’s the other way round – her reassuring me. She always keeps me grounded.

She’s turned off the computer screens and is now collecting her belongings. She faces me when she’s done. “Now, you have a meeting at ten a.m. I’ll see you there.”

I nod. She side-steps, heading for the door. Her mouth opens to say “Goodnight” like she always does as she’s leaving, but I stop her by taking her hand in mine. Her fingers instinctively curl around my hand, holding it back. She looks down at our linked hands, in a slightly surprised way, and then looks up to lock her gaze with mine.

“It’s been a long day. Go get some rest. We’ll look at it all with fresh eyes tomorrow.”

Tears swell in her eyes, and the corners of her lips tug into a smile – a genuine one this time. Before I can stop myself, I’m pulling her closer and wrap my arm around her. Thrown for a moment, there’s a pause before she hugs back; arms holding me as tight as I’m holding her. Neither of us moves for several minutes – I take the opportunity to not only hold her so close, but to also inhale her scent. I burn it into my memory, wanting to remember it forever; to remember it for moments when I’ll need something good to cling to. Months ago she asked if I had any happy stories – I regret never telling her she’s mine.

We pull back, and as we do, I kiss her cheek. Our eyes lock, and I see the burning desire in hers. She nervously licks her bottom lip, causing my eyes to instantly drop to her luscious bright pink lips. _Oh, to kiss her right now!_

Resisting, I drop my hands from her arms. “Goodnight, Felicity.”

She nods once. “Goodnight, Oliver.”

My breath catches in my throat when she runs her hand over my bicep as she steps past me on her way out. I press my lips firmly together, suppressing the urge to grab her, pull her back to me, and kiss her. Tonight’s not the right time to do that.

I stand there, rooted to the spot as I watch her leave. I then change and go home myself.

****

She’s in my dream. Like she has been over the last six months. It’s haunting, yet beautiful at the same time. I dream of us alone – talking, laughing, and her smiling. Then the darkness comes. The torture from the five years where _nothing good happened_. Just when I think I’m going to be swallowed by that darkness, I reach out into my mind and cling to the memory of her scent. She appears, a soft glow around her, just standing there surrounded by those horrible memories. She smiles at me and slowly, one by one, the dark memories fade; until all that is left is her.

****

“Come on, Oliver,” I mutter, nervously pacing as I wring my hands. He was supposed to be here by now. There’s a conference room full of people waiting to begin this meeting – including Mrs Queen and Ms Rochev.

I cross to my desk and check the time as I grab my cell – it’s 10:40 a.m. The meeting was meant to _start_ at ten! I dial him, put it up to my ear and listen to it ringing. A few rings later, he answers.

“Felicity,” he quips, in his usual, gruff Oliver-the-businessman tone.

“Where the hell are you? You’re meant to be here by now. You _are_ aware that you were meant be here for a meeting _forty_ minutes ago?”

He sighs, and I know he’s running a hand over his face. “I know.”

“That’s _not good enough_ , Oliver. I’ve had Isabel coming out _every_ ten minutes _grilling_ me about where you are. Your mother’s in there, doing her best to keep things under control. I’ve been calling you. What have you been doing all this time?”

“I overslept.”

“ _Overslept_? You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.”

He sighs. “Wish I could.”

“Okay, so where are you now? I’ll let them know you’re on your way. FYI, Oliver, I haven’t forgiven you for doing this.”

“Wasn’t thinking that one bit,” he mutters.

“I heard that.”

“Good,” he says, voice echoing through the large space.

I look up from my desk to find him walking across from the elevators. He raises an eyebrow at me.

“You’re _really_ infuriating sometimes,” I say, still talking over my cell to him.

I catch the tug in the corner of his mouth, the slight smile. “You like it. Just like you like spending your nights with me.”

Gaping, I look down to hide the blush. Of _course_ he’d remember that!

I hear the _click_ as he hangs up. Then he’s beside me. He slips his hand under my chin and gently pushes my face up, making me look at him. For a moment his blue eyes darken with desire. Just like last night as I was about to leave.

“Thank you for holding down the fort.”

“I’m ordering you ten alarm clocks, and I’m going to plant them throughout your room and you’re not going to be able to find _any_ of them.”

He smirks. “Like to see you try and get in there,” he whispers with a playful look in his eyes that takes my breath away.

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” I reply. “I thought you’d know that… being Oliver Queen.”

He raises an eyebrow. He considers responding, but instead just turns and heads for his office. “I better get in there.”

I scurry after him, blocking him at the door. He looks over my head, lips pressed together firmly, and he’s so cute I barely contain the urge to kiss him. “Y-y-you,” I stutter, overwhelmed by my feelings for him. “You should know that Ms Rochev won’t be impressed.”

“I know,” his voice cracks as he says it, making me frown slightly as I wonder what’s going on in his mind. He clears his throat. “You said she was grilling you.”

“Yeah. That’s another thing you owe me for.”

He places his right hand on my left elbow, sending heat shooting up my arm. “And how would she be if I’m even _later_ than I already am?”

I close my eyes, pressing my lips together as I understand what he means. “Yes… right.”

He steps around me, hand still on my elbow, but stops – lingering well inside my personal space. He leans in closer, bringing his lips close to my ear. “Thank you,” he whispers. “And since I still owe you a bottle of wine for helping me decode that military grade encrypted USB all those months ago, go order yourself a couple of bottles of whatever red wine you choose. I’m buying.”

Stunned, I look at him as he leans back. He smirks, giving me a wink. He then shoulders the door open, and I feel him reluctantly withdraw his hand from my elbow; my skin instantly missing his touch. I watch him cross his large office, tugging his jacket slightly as he does it up. Who knew a man in a suit could be as sexy as Oliver Queen is in one?

He walks into the conference room that comes off his office and I glimpse his forced smile. Isabel’s probably giving him a stern word for being almost an hour late. I cross back to my desk, settling in my chair as I grab my tablet and hook it up to the small keyboard accessory. I start looking at expensive red wines.

Maybe there’s still hope today will be good.

****

Oliver and Dig are sparring – the former sans shirt, as per the norm – when I arrive. Oliver had another meeting in the afternoon, one that he had to leave Queen Consolidated to attend. I would’ve gone too; however, he thought it was best I stay behind at the office – practically saying he doesn’t want me there without actually saying it. He hadn’t left without receiving a stern word from Moira in private, no doubt chastising him for his tardiness this morning.

Dig gets the upper hand, pinning Oliver to the ground, before looking at me with a smirk and a nod of hello. I smile back. I then watch as Oliver manages to swap them in one swift move.

“When will you learn that I’m better than you, Diggle?”

“When it’s true.”

Oliver tries hard to not laugh, but ends up losing it – shaking his head as he laughs. Dig tries not to, but before long they’re both laughing.

“Having fun?” I ask, stopping at the edge of the mat.

Oliver turns his head to me. His eyes slowly take me in like he’s checking me out, making me feel uncomfortable (but also causing a spark of heat low in my tummy) under his focus, going up my legs all the way up to finally meet mine. “Training is never fun, Felicity. It’s work.”

“ _Really_?” I raise an eyebrow. “All the times I’ve seen you train – with or without Dig – you’ve _always_ looked like you’re having fun.”

He releases his grip on Dig’s arm, stands and walks over to me. My eyes take in his sweat-covered abs and arms. He stops close to me, once more in my personal space, and whispers, “It’s only fun when I whoop Diggle’s butt.”

I press my lips together to suppress my laugh, fully aware that Diggle’s watching us. Oliver smiles and I can tell he’s laughing quietly.

“Did I miss anything this afternoon?”

I shake my head. “No, it was pretty quiet after you’d gone.” I then remember Isabel’s visit. “Although Ms Rochev dropped by.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow.

“It was curt. Mostly a complaint about you being late, which she’d already done four times this morning, so it was rather pointless.”

“Yes, she gave me some of it the second I walked into the room this morning.” I see the playful smirk he has. “What did you tell her?”

“That I was incredibly busy and if she didn’t have a message she wanted to leave you, she should leave me to do my work.”

He presses his lips together, hiding his grin but given away by the corners of his mouth. He places a hand on my arm, once more sending heat shooting up my arm. “Never stop being remarkable, Felicity.”

“I-I-I’ll do my best not-t-t to,” I reply, thrown by the rush of lust through my body at his touch.

He frowns, clearly noticing my stutter, but he doesn’t ask me about it.

“I did manage to use the time to keep digging into our identity thief,” I reply, once I’ve recovered myself.

He raises his eyebrow. “I should leave you alone there more often.”

My eyes widen. “Not when Ms Rochev is in the building.”

His lips part – a response that, no doubt, is some form of defense for the pretty brunette at the ready – but he pauses and then closes his lips. _Good. I hate it when he defends her._

“What did you find out?”

I turn on my tablet’s screen and bring up the information. I rotate it so he can see it. “I got to thinking about the building where we found the Ammonium Nitrate.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he replies, eyes on my tablet. “What about it?”

“It seemed a little off that there was – _is_ – that much of it just sitting in an abandoned building, which was ordered there by someone who’s stolen—”

“I _know_ , Felicity.”

“Yes, sorry,” I reply, pushing my glasses further up my nose. “The closest farm is a long way from the building. Like… as far away from it as you can get and _still_ consider the farm part of our city. So it makes _no_ sense to have _that_ much Ammonium Nitrate sitting there.”

He sighs and I see he’s slowly losing patience with me. “We established that it’s for a bomb.”

“No, I said it _could_ be used for a bomb. Last night there was still a chance we were wrong.”

I notice Dig smirk – I’d just put Oliver in his place. Oliver’s eyes are looking up, focusing on something over my head as his lips are pressed together. He takes a moment before he responds, “I’ll go back to my original question – _what did you find out?_ ”

“Well, I decided to see what other buildings were either bought or used by our fraudster,” I reply, Oliver’s eyes dropping back to my tablet. “It took a while, because I had to eliminate those used by the _real_ Fred Pickering, but I came up with another building.”

Oliver’s stunning blue eyes snap up to meet mine, capturing my focus. “Another building?”

I nod. “Further into the city than the one you visited last night. The _real_ worry is how close it is to the surrounding buildings and exactly _where_ it is in the Glades.”

Oliver looks at me for a moment. “It could have a bomb in it.”

I nod. “The building’s large enough for the bomb to cause the worst-case scenario I told you of last night.”

He closes his eyes, as Dig crosses over to us and says, “So we go and disable this bomb before they can use it.”

Oliver looks at Dig, glaring slightly at the fact that Dig just stated the obvious. “Would we not?” Dig opens his mouth to respond, but Oliver continues, “I’ll go. You two stay here.” Oliver walks towards his Arrow clothes as he continues, “Felicity, you’ll talk me through how to disable the bomb over the intercom. Just like you did with Lance during the Undertaking.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Oliver spins around mid-step to face me, brow burrowed and nostrils flaring. “ _What_?”

“I-I-I’m coming with you,” I reply, trying to hide the slight fear I have from his reaction.

He walks back to me, every muscle tense. He stands well into my personal space, using his larger frame to try and intimidate me. “ _No_.”

I stand tall, determined to stand my ground. “We need to stop this before it’s too late. To be honest, Oliver, I don’t think that you’re capable of disabling a bomb, even if I’m in your ear giving you instructions.”

“It’s too dangerous,” he replies through gritted teeth.

“Oh? So it’s okay for me to go undercover into an illegal casino to _intentionally_ get caught cheating, be in here while the building falls apart _around me_ during the Undertaking, jump out of a plane and parachute onto one of _the most dangerous_ islands in the world and stand on a landmine, yet _not_ to come with you to disarm a bomb?”

He stares at me and I can see him processing it all in his head – weighing everything I’ve said; weighing his options.

I cross my arms. “If you’re going, I’m going.”

He clenches his jaw and I can tell without looking that he’s got his hands in fists at his side. He then looks over at Dig, who simply shrugs and says, “She’s right.”

Oliver opens his mouth, but stops before any words come out. He sighs as he turns his attention back to me. “Fine.”

He then turns around and walks rather tensely over to his Arrow clothes. I watch him pull his jacket on, pulling my lip between my teeth – I hate it when he’s mad at me.

“Don’t worry,” Dig says, now standing beside me. “He’ll calm down.”

“Before or after I disarm the bomb?” I ask, looking at Dig.

He smirks and pats my arm before walking off. _Great, don’t answer me._

****

I put my left arm back, pushing her behind me. I listen carefully to our surroundings, trying to locate the noise I just heard. Still listening, I slowly raise my arm and pull an arrow from my quiver. I hold it in my bow, holding them out in front of me at the ready so if we’re attacked I can shoot right away. Our only line of defense is my bow and arrows – and there’s no way I’m anywhere _near_ being content with that. _She shouldn’t have come_.

I slowly step forward, listening and alert. I can sense she’s following a few steps behind. We’ve been in here for maybe half an hour, and so far no sign of anyone guarding this bomb. She’d say it’s a good thing – we don’t have to fight anyone – but having no one standing against us means only one thing. _The bomb is active._

As we approach a door, I hear the noise once more. I stop and listen – _humming_. No, _electrical humming_. Like a computer, only… louder.

“Whoa, do you hear that?” she whispers.

“Stay here.”

She nods, clutching her tablet tighter against her chest. She looks so vulnerable. And scared.

I turn back to the door, step closer, and kick it open. I step through with my bow drawn, ready for anyone inside. The room’s huge – in length and height – no doubt taking up most of this third floor. Windows line the wall to my left. There’s no one here, just like everywhere else. I lower my bow, arrow still loaded, and look around. I want to make sure we really are alone before I bring her in.

I step around a wall that separates the far end of the room from the rest, raising my bow as I do. I lower it as I take in what’s in front of me; the source of the humming.

****

I swallow hard. I don’t like being out here on my own. What if someone turns up and attacks me? What’s taking him so damn long? Surely there’s no one in there…

I jump at the sound of footsteps, eyes darting around for where they’re coming from. He steps into the doorway, bow at his side without an arrow drawn and his hood pushed back so I can see his face. I’m still not used to seeing him with a green mask – an _actual_ mask, not just green paint around his eyes.

“You should come see this,” he says, before stepping back into the room.

I walk towards the door. “Why do I feel scared at that statement?”

“Hey,” he says softly, gently cupping my elbow. “No one else is here. You’re safe.” He thinks it through. “Even if we weren’t alone, you’ve got me here to protect you.” He then winks.

I force a smile. His hand drops from my elbow to my lower back. I suck in a deep breath and he gently guides me across the large room. We step around a wall and I gape as I take in the other side.

A fairly large bomb – almost as tall as I am, and several feet wide. It looks _very_ sophisticated – how I imagine the earthquake machine from the Undertaking looked. Only this is probably much larger.

“Holy… _whoa_ ,” I mutter.

“It’s big.”

I look at him. “ _Big_ is an understatement. This is… _gigantic_!” I reply. “I’m sure there are bombs _larger_ than this in existence…”

“Is it as bad as we thought? Could it level the city?”

I press my lips into a thin line, thinking it through, doing the math in my head.

“ _Felicity!_ ” He says so loud, I realize he must’ve been saying it several times.

“Uh… no,” I reply. “I really don’t think it could level the city. It’ll definitely destroy the building and cause damage to the neighboring buildings, but…” I sigh. “You saw what the Undertaking did to the Glades. Who knows what this could do.”

“Can you disable it?”

“I’ll try.” I cautiously step closer. “Got to find the access panel.”

“Want me to help find it?”

“No.”

“No?” He sounds so hurt by it.

I look at him. “No offense, Oliver, but I’d rather not accidentally cause it to explode when we’re standing right here. Just stand guard and I’ll take a look. I know what to look for.”

He scoffs. “And I don’t?”

“Can you stop having a go at me, please?”

“You’re doing it to me just as much as I am.”

“In defense of yours,” I snap. I sigh. “Sorry. I appreciate you offering to help, but… this is something _very_ delicate. I just want to keep the risk of setting this off to a minimum. One false move and it could explode – like _BOOM!_ ” I say the latter so loudly and throw my arms out wide, he raises an eyebrow at me. I draw my arms back into my chest, looking apologetic. “Sorry for that. I’d rather that we don’t accidently kill ourselves doing this. Because that _isn’t_ something I want to experience. Not to mention that Starling would slip back into its old, corrupted ways without the Arrow around.”

The corners of his lips tug up in a small smile and I’m not sure if he’s smiling at my babble or at the compliment I just gave him. Maybe it’s both.

I turn back to the bomb, turn to my left and start circling it as I look for signs of an access panel. I catch him in the corner of my eye, standing still with his bow at his side as he watches me. I’m three-quarters through my loop around it when I see the outline of a large square that stands out from the baby blue of the metal it’s set into. I carefully place my tablet on the ground, before reaching with both hands towards the square. I take a moment to inspect it, looking for a way to open it without triggering the bomb to explode. I run two fingers along the edge of the square, finding an ever-so-slight indentation in the middle of the top side. I slowly push the indentation, shutting my eyes and turning my head away fearing that this could be a trick and I’m setting it off. After a moment of nothing happening, I open one eye and turn back – it’s opened the panel!

“ _Yes!_ ” I exclaim, pumping my arm. I realize what I’ve done. “Man, I _really_ need to stop doing that.”

“Success?” He asks.

I look at him – he’s stepped closer. I nod. “I got the panel open. That’s just step one.”

“Step two is obviously disarming it,” he says. There’s a long pause before he adds, “Right?”

I tilt my head to the side. “No, I’m going to set it off.”

He shakes his head, barely stopping the laughter. “Now’s not the time for jokes, Felicity.”

“We have to keep this whole life-or-death situation as light-hearted as we can,” I reply, before turning back to the panel. Inside the small control panel – a square space about 15 inches wide, 17 inches deep and 12 inches high – cords weave all over, each different colors. But what’s alarming is there’s a small screen set just into the base an inch from the front. On it is a timer – 00:15:00 (15 minutes) and counting down.

“Oh, no, no, no, _nooooo_!”

“Felicity?” He’s right beside me now.

“We have _fifteen_ minutes to disarm this, or…”

“Or what?”

I look at him. “We get obliterated, along with probably half the neighborhood.”

His jaw clenches, and he gets that stoic, action-ready look he gets whenever he’s prepping to go and do his Arrow things.

“We’ll get this. _I’ll_ disarm it,” I say, smiling. I turn back to the control panel and mutter, “I hope.”

****

She frantically works on disabling it and I anxiously pace as I keep an eye out for anyone who may want to stop us.

“Felicity.”

“I… I… hang on,” she replies.

There’s a _click_ and she exclaims a triumphant ‘ _Ah-HUH!_ ’ – I smirk, knowing she’s doing that cute fist pump she always does. But then she groans, before muttering, “Oh, come _on!_ ”

I spin to look at her, instantly seeing her brow furrowed.  I look at the timer – five minutes. If we don’t get this disabled…

“Talk to me, Felicity.”

“Uh… I… I don’t know! I’ve tried _everything_ to stop it, but… I can’t get it to stop. Either I’m cutting the wrong wires, or this is one hell of a complex bomb.”

“Hey,” I whisper, crouching beside her as I place a hand on her shoulder. “Stay calm. I trust that you can stop this.”

She looks at me and practically whispers., “What if I can’t?”

I squeeze her shoulder. “Leave it to me.”

She meekly smiles, eyes full of worry. She turns her attention back to the wires and screen on the bomb in front of her. Two and a half minutes to go.

She sighs. “There’s only _one_ option left.”

“Do it.”

She looks at me. “Be ready to get us out of here quickly. This might not work.”

“I’m always ready. Just do it.”

She gulps as she turns back to the bomb. She then reaches into the space where she’s been working, grabs fistfuls of wires, and…

_…Yanks them all out_.

The timer stops – 1 minute, 30 seconds left. We smile, both looking to the other as we laugh in relief.

Then it beeps and we both whip our heads towards it. It’s counting down again. _Faster_.

“ _Crap_ ,” she mutters.

I grab her arm and pull her to her feet – she yelps, grabbing her tablet. I keep a hold on her arm as we run towards the windows. I hook my arm around her waist, pulling her against me. I spin us, shielding her as best I can as we smash through one of the windows.

We’re barely through when the bomb explodes.

****

It’s all a blur – from being pulled to my feet, to him holding me tight as he smashes through the window – and for a moment, as we free-fall to the ground all I can hear is the explosion. He hits the dumpster first, groaning as we roll down its lid and drop to the ground; he twists us to land first to take the blow. Lying on his back with me lying on top of him, he lets out another groan.

“You hurt?” He asks.

“No, other than the slight ringing in my ears. You?”

“Same.”

Oliver runs his right hand from the small of my back up my spine to my ponytail. He gently curls some of my hair around his fingers. In a blink, his hand’s on the back of my head tugging me down, and gently brushes his lips against mine. He lets me draw back slightly, our faces inches apart, and we stare into each others’ eyes. The whole world slowly fades away around us; there’s only the two of us now. His stunning blue eyes are illuminated by the flickering flames, and I see them darken with desire. I feel my own desire building – I need him _so bad_. One little taste isn’t enough. Before I can stop myself, I close the gap – crushing my lips against his. He tilts his head to slant his lips over mine – our kiss hungry and bruising, but neither of us can stop ourselves. I moan against his mouth, pushing my chest further against him as he runs his hands up and down my back. Then he flips us, pinning me to the ground as his kisses turn to little nips on my lower lip, causing me to moan. His right hand slides down my left thigh, only to push my skirt up – his leather glove on my bare skin, driving my senses and desires wild. I run my hands through his short hair, grabbing fistfuls. It just feels so right finally being able to give in to the long burning desire I’ve held for him.

The sound of sirens approaching causes us to break apart, panting for air. For a moment, I struggle to recall where we are, what brought us here. Then everything comes crashing back – our mission, the explosion.

“We… we need to go,” I whisper.

He nods. He looks into my eyes, the burning desire still there. I know he wants to kiss me again, just as much as I do. But the police and fire department will be on the scene within minutes, and we can’t risk them finding us here – can’t risk exposing Oliver’s secret identity. He plants his hands on the ground either side of me, and pushes himself up. Once he’s on his feet, he holds his right hand out to me. I take hold of his wrist, his fingers curling round my petite wrist, and he pulls me swiftly to my feet with such force, I end up pressed against his chest. He leans in, lips parted in anticipation for mine, but the sirens are closer now and he stops himself just in time. He picks his bow up off the ground. When he’s standing straight again, I reach over his shoulders and pull his hood back up. He smiles in thanks, before he leans forward and kisses my forehead.

We sneak away, mindful of the police and firemen that are now here, to his motorbike that we left in an alley near by. We put our helmets on, Oliver storing his bow and quiver in a little compartment on the back that I’d recommended he add to his motorbike, to which I add my tablet. He then climbs on and I awkwardly climb on behind him. I shift as close as I can behind him, wrapping my arms tightly round his waist. He brushes his right hand over the back of my right, before switching on the engine. The bike roars to life under us and within seconds we’re moving – causing me to ‘Eeeeeep!’ in fright at the instant fast speed and tighten my arms around him.

****

I turn a corner, feeling her arms tighten around my waist even more. If this is how tight she holds on when we’re on my motorbike, I wonder what she’d be like in bed. In _my_ bed.

_No, don’t go there Oliver. She’s not one of those women you can mistreat. She’s more than that. More than just another beauty to bed. She knows you more than anyone else. She’s the ONLY one you can be yourself with. Someone you really care about._

We’re at the foundry sooner than I recall it taking us to leave. Although I must admit I did go really fast on the ride home…

Her arms slip from around me once I’ve turned off the engine. I pull my helmet off and by the time I climb off my motorbike, she’s already got hers off (it’s sitting on the back of my bike) and is in the back compartment getting my quiver and bow out. She thrusts my bow and quiver into my chest rather firmly and I look at her startled as I take them from her.

“Have I done something wrong, Felicity?”

“How about putting me on that bike?”

“It’s the quickest way to get around. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but… you _did_ insist on coming.”

She whips to face me, tablet held close to her chest – her movement’s so quick, her cute ponytail swings back and forth. “I _insisted_ because time was of the essence. You should be thanking me concerning we _barely_ had enough time for me to do what I did. So don’t you _dare_ blame me for hating your bike. We could’ve easily taken one of our cars.”

She walks past me, shoving my arm on the way past that doesn’t affect me since I’m stronger and taller than her, but I clench my jaw in response. I shove our helmets into the storage compartment and rush after her. She slips inside the building, slamming the door behind her. I quickly type in the code for the door lock, and rush in.

When I get inside, she’s already at her desk, collecting her handbag and other possessions. I’m actually glad I told Diggle to go home before we left – I don’t want him to see this.

“Felicity!” It comes out as a bark, one I regret but can’t take back.

“ _What?_ ” She barks back. _Huh. So that’s her loud voice…_

I cross to her, take hold of her arm as gently as I can and turn her to look at me. “Hey, talk to me.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“For starters, how you could go from kissing me to holding me tightly to shouting at me.”

“I was holding you tightly because I was _freaking out_ over the fact that we were going _really_ fast on two wheels,” she snaps. “Excuse me for fearing for my life. Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous those things are? _Especially_ when you go at the speed you were tonight!”

“You were safe. I wasn’t… going that fast!”

She scoffs. “Of _course_ you’d say that. I’m sure that’s how fast you go _all_ the time.”

“Hey, where’s this all coming from? This can’t all be because of my bike.”

“I… I… _it totally is!_ ” She stamps her foot, and I hold back my laughter – she’s failing at being angry. “ _Stop it!_ ”

“Stop what?”

“Laughing at me, you… you _ungrateful snob_!”

I raise my eyebrow. “Is that what you really think of me? Because you’ve never called me that before, and you _definitely_ weren’t in that mind frame earlier tonight.”

“ _URGH!_ ” She starts to step around me to leave, but I hold her arm tighter.

“We’re _not_ done.”

“Let me _go_.”

“Not until you tell me what’s _really_ going on in that beautiful head of yours,” I reply. She looks stunned. “My mother always told me, ‘never go to bed with an argument unfinished’. And that’s what we’re going to do.”

“You know you infuriate me when you suddenly show any sense of being smart.”

I smile. “It keeps you on your toes.” She rolls her eyes. “Besides, I had to be smart to survive on Lian Yu.”

Her expression changes to one of sadness following me bringing up Lian Yu. She always gets that look whenever I bring it up. I cup her cheek with my hand.

“Talk to me, Felicity.”

She drops her gaze down, shaking her head.

“Please, Felicity. Talk to me. I want to help.”

“I _can’t_.”

“Why not?”

“You just _can’t_ ,” she pulls her arm out of my hand, and crosses to the stairs out.

“Fel—”

“Good _night_ , Oliver,” she snaps, without looking back to me.

I cross the space between us so quickly she’s only gone up four steps before I reach her. I fall into step beside her. When she won’t stop or look at me, I grab her arm, turn her to me, and then gently push her against the wall. I put my hands on the wall either side of her, blocking her in.

“Let me _go_ , Oliver.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Bad luck, Felicity.”

She sighs, tilting her head and pressing her lips together to form a thin line. I don’t move, just stare at her until she gives in, which doesn’t take long.

She sighs. “I… I don’t know what to say, how to act around you sometimes, Oliver! You’re like a… a blind bull in a china shop sometimes! You’re a loose cannon, one that’s out of control and threatens to explode at _any_ moment… and then you’re this _gorgeous_ , sweet, kind guy who just melts my heart and sweeps me off my feet and makes me feel safe and loved, and…” She sighs. “I… I don’t know which version of you to expect each day. Because you’re just _that unpredictable_. It’s downright _annoying_ … no… no. _Infuriating_. And just when I think you could possibly care about someone as geeky as I am, you go and remind me that I’ll _never_ be _anything_ romantically interesting to you by sleeping with Isabel Rochev when we should’ve been out there supporting Dig. Then tonight you _kiss_ me and I _really_ don’t know what the _hell_ to do with you! You _can’t_ just keep treating women like _this_ , Oliver! You _can’t_ keep giving them mixed signals and confuse them, and—”

I claim her lips with mine, tilting my head to give me better access to her soft bright pink lipstick-covered lips. She’s surprised at first, but eagerly kisses me back. I drop my right hand, wrapping it around her waist and pull her closer. She moans, opening her mouth to mine as her arms wrap around my neck. I step forward, pushing her against the wall. She moans so sexually in response to it, I moan back to her. She tastes _so damn good_. I want to keep kissing her forever. It’s only when I can’t breathe anymore that I pull back. I lean my forehead against hers, as we both pant.

“That a clear enough signal for you?” I huskily whisper.

“O-O-Oliver,” she mutters.

“I’m unpredictable and infuriating towards you because I… I don’t know how I _should_ be with you, Felicity,” I say. Her eyes widen after that last part. “You know me better than _anyone_ else. You’re the _only_ one I know I can _truly_ be _myself_ with.” I swallow hard. “I… I have never felt like this before. I want you _so badly_ … that I want to protect you, to _never_ see you hurt. I get that I’ve hurt you. I _always_ hurt those I love, but I see that it crushes you whenever I do.” I cup her face with my left hand, gently rubbing my thumb back and forth over her cheek bone. “When I saw how hurt you were that I’d slept with Isabel, I wished that I could go back and erase it. Because I _never_ want to see you look as sad as you did standing at my door that night. I live with that guilt _every single day_ and I do _everything_ I can to make sure I _never_ do it again. I can’t make up for what I did that night in Russia, but… I _can_ stop it from happening again.”

“Oliver, I—”

“I see you with that Allen kid, and…” I search for the right words. “There’s a guy who’s not as messed up and damaged as I am, and you could have a happy life with him, and instead of being a good man and friend to you over it, I get all jealous because you—” I sigh. “I want you to be with _me_. But I can’t have you, because I’m only going to hurt you, and I… you don’t deserve that. But I can’t just switch off my feelings for you, because… they’re _so strong_. I’ve… I’ve _never_ felt this way. Not for Laurel… or Sara… or Shado… or Helena and McKenna.” I push down my tears as their faces flash through my mind. I close my eyes. “And that’s why it _kills me_ every time you cry. Because I would do _anything_ to stop those tears. The thing I hate the most, though, is how often it’s _my_ actions that hurt you the most.

I…” I sigh. “I don’t deserve you.”

I pull back, completely withdrawing from her and turn to head back into the main part of the foundry. She places her hand on the inside of my elbow, where she always touches me, and I stop. I look into her eyes for the first time since I started to say all of that to her, surprised to see how sad hers look – tears brimming behind her glasses.

“There have been times where I’ve wanted to walk away, to leave this team and never look back,” she says, barely louder than a whisper. “But I care about you and Dig too much to cut you off. We all need each other to get through this. We’re a team, Oliver. When one falls, when one is in need of help… the other two have their back.” She steps closer, and gently squeezes my elbow. She even smiles slightly. “You say you don’t deserve me… but you _do_ , Oliver.” She reaches up with her other hand, and gently places it on my cheek. I close my eyes, turning into it. “You say you’re damaged… I call you a survivor.”

I open my eyes, frowning in confusion. “Felicity?” My voice cracks in the middle of her name.

“You were stranded for five years on a hellish island, where _nothing_ good happened,” she replies. “Most people wouldn’t have survived as long as you did. It takes great strength to do what you did back then… and an even _greater_ one to come home and pick up life like you have here.” She smiles, gently rubbing her thumb on my cheek. “Where you see a damaged man, a see one who’s been through hell and back. I see a _hero_ , Oliver.

I love everything about you. Every hardship you’ve faced. It’s made you the man that stands here with me today. I see the good in you, Oliver. Yes, I was crushed when…” She sighs. “I was crushed in Russia. But I believe that love hurts sometimes. I also believe that, when it comes to love, we all must let it run its own course. We can’t force it. We need to have faith that it will work out in the end.”

I swallow hard, and fight back tears. “Can someone ever love someone as damaged as I am? To love… a _beast_ ,” my voice cracks as I say ‘beast’. “Like me?”

She pouts slightly, the way she does when she feels sympathy for me – I haven’t seen her do that since Christmas, when I had to save Roy and was haunted by ghosts.

“You’re not a beast, Oliver. Not from where I stand,” she replies softly. “Besides, you _do_ remember what happens in _Beauty and the Beast_ , right? Because that is all about loving a beast.” She thinks for a moment. “Even if he was a Prince who was enchanted…”

I can’t help but smile at her. “Do you really mean it?”

She tilts her head to the side. “You’re seriously asking the woman who has no brain-to-mouth filter if she _really_ means that you’re not a beast, but someone who can be loved?” She asks, thinks, then quickly adds, “Who _is_ loved?”

I smirk. “I find that incredibly endearing. Your no brain-to-mouth filter.”

She smiles, turning her head to hide her blush.

I turn to completely face her, leaning in so we’re an inch apart. I drop my head slightly, bringing my lips close to her ear. I then whisper, “I love you.”

She turns her head, eyes meeting mine. And in a shaky voice, she says, “W-w-what?”

“I love you, Felicity,” I reply in my normal tone.

“Really?”

“Shh,” I whisper, holding her chin between my thumb and finger. “No more talking.”

I brush my lips against hers – and she chases mine as I pull back, her hand clutching the back of my head to keep me within her reach. Her kisses are eager and full of longing. Who knew the brainy, socially awkward I.T girl could be so passionate and fiery as she is right now? I place my hands on her hips, pulling her even closer, and she lets out a contented sigh.

Just as I think we could stand here on the steps and kiss forever, she pulls back. I chase her lips, instantly missing them, but she leans further back as she pushes her hands against my chest. So I whimper, shifting one hand to her back to try and pull her back to me.

“Go get changed,” she says, gesturing with her head towards the main part of the foundry.

“Why, when I can stand here with the woman I love in my arms, her lips pressed against my neck?”

She smiles. “Because tomorrow you won’t want to be seen wearing the Arrow’s outfit in broad daylight.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh?” I ask. “And why would I be in that situation?”

She points with one of her right fingers right over my heart, her finger on my leather jacket. With her eyes locked with mine, her voice full of confidence, she says, “You’re coming home with me.”

I smile, one that reaches my eyes. “How _very_ direct that was of you, Felicity.”

“I thought you’d be used to that by now, Oliver Queen.”

I place my right hand on her cheek, watching her for a moment as she closes her eyes. “Several months ago, you asked me if I had any happy stories.”

She opens her eyes, locks them with mine and replies, “Yes, I remember.”

I lean forward, resting my forehead against hers, and then whisper, “ _You_ are my happy story.”

I hear her sharp inhale, the small gasp-like sound she makes, at my admission. So I hook one arm around her waist, holding her against me. Her body fits so well against mine – it’s like we were made for each other.

I give her a quick kiss – instantly regretting it, for it makes me want to kiss her for longer – before turning and leaping over the last four steps in one bound. I turn back to her – she’s smiling as she fights back her giggles.

“I shan’t be long.”

She pouts. “Don’t keep a woman waiting too long, Oliver Queen,” she replies. “A woman detests that.”

“Well, then,” I reply, pulling my jacket’s zipper down to expose my bare chest. I smirk as I watch her eyes drop to my chest and she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. “I better get cracking.”

I turn around, hearing her whimper, and walk off. Tonight isn’t so bad after all. I’m so happy that she insisted on coming with me.

****

I step back into my apartment, pulling him with me as we kiss, tongues rolling around the other. I toss my handbag over my shoulder, not caring where it ends up, and return my hand to its grip on his suit jacket. I break our kiss, and push him back – slightly surprised when it works. I pin him against my closed front door, still holding his jacket, and start kissing his neck. He lets out a low moan, his voice box vibrating against my lips, as he tilts his head back which gives me better access to his neck. I run kisses up to just behind his chin, planting multiple kisses on the one spot. His stubble tickles my lips, but I don’t care. He’s enjoying this – at my mercy, so to say – his right hand running up and down my back, his breathing quick. After a while, his hands cup my face and pull me from his neck. He looks into my eyes and I can’t help but notice how much darker they are from desire.

He’s silent for a moment, most likely trying to catch his breath. He shakes his head. “Damn you, Smoak,” he mutters, before claiming my lips with his.

I tug off his jacket as we kiss, and toss it aside. I start lightly nipping at his bottom lip, causing him to let out a low moan. He pulls back, breaking the kiss, before he bends over slightly, hooks his right arm behind my knees and manages to swiftly scoop me up into his arms – his left arm resting around my back. I wrap my arms around his neck, and I’m tempted to keep kissing him but I know he’s not completely familiar with my apartment’s layout (and I know he’d be distracted if I do) so I hold back. He walks around my couch, and heads straight for my bedroom.

I raise an eyebrow at the fact that he knows which room to head to even though the door’s almost completely shut, thus ruling out him seeing the bed. “How do you—”

“Shhh,” he whispers, nuzzling his face into the side of mine. He then shoulders the door open.

I playfully kiss his neck, he moans and stumbles slightly as he steps into my bedroom. He walks quickly over to my bed, gently laying me down on it. He gets on his hands and knees over me, leaning down to kiss me once more. As we kiss, my hands slide around his neck, over his collar bone and I start unbuttoning his shirt. He runs his right hand down my left thigh, and pushes my skirt up. When it’s all the way up, his hand moves to my underwear and he starts rubbing me gently – I moan into his mouth, and he rubs me more. In the haze of all the desire running through my body, I can feel the wetness dampening the fabric of my undies. I can’t take this anymore. Enough with this torture! I want him in me _now!_

I place my hands on his arms, his biceps tense from holding himself above me. I manage to push him to my right (unfortunately breaking our kiss), forcing him onto his back and I straddle him. He stares up at me, one eyebrow cocked in amusement.

“Well,” he says, hands holding my hips. “I’m seeing a new side of you, Felicity.”

“You were teasing me too much, Oliver,” I reply. “You have _no_ idea how long I’ve imagined you in this position.” His eyebrow raises more, and I realize exactly what I’ve just said. I cover my face with my hands. “That came out wrong.”

He pulls on my blouse, pulling me down to him and I place my hands on his chest. He stops me when our faces are inches apart. “I’m glad tonight we’re making both our dreams come true.”

I’m surprised, but don’t have much time to dwell on his words – he gently pulls my glasses off, closing the arms over, and stretches over to place them carefully on my bedside table. He then tucks my hair behind my ears, his hands lingering at my face. He then whispers, “You’re so beautiful.”

I smile, leaning closer until are lips are almost touching and whisper, “I love you.”

He tilts his head slightly as he closes the gap, his kiss bruising but I don’t care. We’re together – _finally_ – and that’s all that matters. His hands are in my hair, trapping my head to his. And for the first time I finally feel at home – our bodies just fit together so perfectly, it’s like we were meant to be in each others’ embrace.

We spend the next few minutes stripping off each others’ clothes, swapping who’s on top several times to make it easier to shed our lower clothing.

****

She shimmies out of her undies above me. I push them the rest of the way off with my right foot, before I flip us – she lets out a shocked squeal that rolls into laughter – and claim her lips the second she’s beneath me. I press my body gently against her, wanting to be as close to her as possible – she smells and tastes incredible. Her hands slide up into my short hair, taking hold of it in fists as she moans into my mouth; our tongues clashing. I slide inside her – she gasps, breaking our kiss, and I grunt slightly as her wet inner muscles clench, making it hard for me to penetrate her.

“Relax, baby, relax,” I whisper, gently caressing both her sides. She closes her eyes, her breathing slowly slowing down – and I feel her inner muscles relax. I smile, bringing my lips beside her left ear. I whisper, “at-a-girl, Felicity.”

I then lightly nip her earlobe, causing her to arch her back and moan. Her movement allows me to slide further into her, causing her to dig her nails into my scalp. I kiss her neck as I thrust into her, being gentle at first. But the months of lusting after her and the endless dreams about doing this to her fill the front of my mind, and I increase my pace, causing her to once more moan. I gently suck the skin on her neck, loving how sweet her skin tastes. Not to mention she’ll most likely have a giant hickey come morning.

I thrust over and over and over, sucking on her neck as she moans. After a while, she wraps her legs around my waist – this changes her angle, and I groan as her inner muscles tighten around me. I slide my right hand down and start rubbing and pulling her clit which makes her gasp and squirm. I still her by hooking my other arm around her, pulling her against me as I continue to thrust in and out of her.

Her orgasm hits first, her inner muscles spasming as her climax hits. Mine follows seconds later – my vision blurring and I see colors, something I’ve never experienced before during an orgasm. Perhaps it’s because for the first time, I’m making love to the woman who I know for sure is my soul mate. As we both come down from our orgasms, I gently lower her back down so she’s flat on her back once more. I then relax on top of her, shifting my weight to my left elbow that’s slightly under her so not to squish her. I gently rub my right hand over her left thigh, as we stare into each others’ eyes.

“It… it feels really good having you inside me,” she says.

The last time she said that, all those months ago, comes back to me and I can’t hide my grin. We both chuckle, and then I claim her lips. This has been one unforgettable night.

 


	2. Sun Sets, But It Ain't Over Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity adjust to their new relationship -- but can Oliver's decision derail it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, a HUGE!!!!! thanks to Kate for again editing it like a pro! :) Genius at work!!! She's done such a fantastic job taking my words & making them perfect. Especially my two favorite Oliver speeches near the end of the chapter. And advising me on how to fix the opening scene...  
> And thank you all for patiently waiting! I've been checking up on all the kudos left on Chapter 1, & it's really been great to have them come in. I hope this lives up to that!  
> One of the main things I wanted to do going into this chapter was to improve on Oliver a little more -- I got feedback from friends saying he needed to be a little less open about his emotions. Hopefully I've curved that in this chapter... as best I can! :P

My mind pulls me from my dreams, back into the world. I groan as I roll over to my right, swapping which side of my body I’m lying on, fighting the urge to wake. _Not yet. Please, not yet. I love this dream. This is my favorite dream, where Oliver’s holding me and telling me everything I’ve ever wanted him to whisper to me. The dream where he’s making love to me. Please, brain, don’t end it. Don’t make me leave. I don’t want to go._ I stretch my left arm out in front of me, as I always do. Only I don’t find an empty bed. Instead, my hand lands on an arm.

An _incredibly well-toned_ arm.

_Huh. That’s not right_.

I open my eyes, taking in the slightly blurry room, and focus on the figure lying beside me. I blink several times, not believing that _Oliver_ is here; lying on his side facing me, shirtless and asleep, with a small smile. He seems so at peace; a rare occurrence for him.

Last night feels like a dream. Well, not the bomb disposal, which hadn’t actually worked, forcing us to run and jump out a window to avoid being killed, but the rest of it. Our kiss outside the building, our heated discussion in the foundry, more kisses, him coming back here and making love… it all feels like one of my rather silly fantasies; the dreams I cling to at night. _It can’t be real_.

Before I think it through properly, I lift the covers up and peer under them. Y _ep, he’s naked; I’m naked; and we’re in bed together._ Dropping the covers and turning my attention back to his face, everything becomes so unbelievably clear in my mind. This is d _efinitely not a dream._

I slide my left hand slowly down his bicep, wanting to confirm that I’m not imagining it. There’s still a part of me that doesn’t believe it, as if the fact we’re both completely naked in my bed and my core feels achy isn’t proof enough that we made love last night. I mean, this could just be me waking up from a dream _inside_ a dream… right? This is my number one fantasy; the one thing I’ve wanted more than anything else. _So, why am I convinced that there’s a catch to this and that it’s all fake?_

He stirs and I instantly pull my hand back. I want him to stay asleep, not just because he looks so peaceful when he’s asleep, but because the longer he is, the more time I have to get my head around this. I mean, it’s _Oliver_. _In my bed_.

He remains asleep and I can’t stop myself from running my left hand slowly over his skin – over his Bratva tattoo, which I trace with two fingers; over the scars, a mix of older, from Lian Yu, and newer ones from since he returned – signs of the torture, the hardships, the struggle for survival he’s endured these last six years.

My hand slides over his collar bone, fingertips brushing his neck. His right hand snaps up, clamping around my wrist as his eyes fly open. Startled, I try to pull back – but his hold is too strong; I can’t escape. His stunning blue eyes focus on me – the rage fading with every breath he takes as he recognizes me. Even after being home for a year, I still don’t blame him for sleeping on edge. I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand what five years on that island did to him.

He bows his head, eyes closing as he releases his hold on my wrist. He mumbles, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

With a furrowed brow, he opens his eyes and looks at me.

“You’re used to sleeping on edge. Your time on Lian Yu caused you to be aware of your surroundings at every moment. It was the difference between life and death,” I explain. “I may not know everything that happened to you during those five years, but I know the effect it had on you. So, never apologize. There’s no need.”

He cups my face with his right hand, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “How did I ever become so lucky as to have you in my life?”

“You’ve endured more pain and suffering than any one man should ever experience. Don’t you think that’s enough of a reason for the universe to give you something good in your life?” I reply.

He slides his hand behind my head, pulls me closer and kisses me. I instinctively moan, shifting my body closer so we’re pressed together. His hand drops from my head, only to rest on the small of my back. We lie there, kissing for a moment and then he gently pushes against me, getting me to roll onto my back. I expect him to be on top of me – but he stays beside me, his torso partially over me. His hand slides from my back, over my hip and down between my thighs. He pushes two fingers inside me, causing me to gasp against his lips. He starts moving his fingers slowly in and out, as if thrusting, and I arch my back as I squirm. Last night was incredible, but… it has left me sore. I _can’t_ take this.

“Oliver,” I moan.

“Shh,” he whispers. “Just go with it.”

“I… I… I _can’t_.”

“Felicity,” he whispers. “Look at me.”

I open my eyes and they’re instantly met by his. He smiles the smile that’s only for me.

“Just… relax.”

“It _hurts_ ,” I whimper.

“Only because you’re clenching in resistance,” he whispers. “Relax.”

I groan, his hand causing pain to shoot through my body; making my entire body feel like it’s on fire. I squirm, but he stills me with his other hand.

“O-O-Oliver,” I moan.

“Shh,” he whispers. “You’re okay.”

His thumb rubs over my clit and I gasp – he quickly claims my lips in a crushing kiss. He continues to move inside me and I slowly relax. He breaks the kiss, looking down at me with a big grin. Waves of pleasure sweep through me and I arch my back as I moan and close my eyes. I feel him shift his position, his fingers slipping from inside me – I gasp as he enters me, thrusting so fast and hard I shout. He leans down and kisses me, his left hand gliding over my side. I cry out against his lips as I climax, trembling all over as I come down. He breaks the kiss, allowing me to breathe deeply. He slides sideways to lie on the bed right beside me. He hooks his arm around my waist and pulls me close as I continue to slow my breathing. He rests his head against the side of mine, lazily tracing patterns on my side with his finger.

***

“Stop fiddling with that.”

I jump, whipping around as I lower my hand from the small scarf tied around my neck. He’s leaning against one side of the archway into my kitchen, a big grin plastered over his face. He steps over to me, wrapping his left arm around my waist to pull me against him. He reaches up with his right hand and smoothes the scarf’s material out.

“It looks fine,” he whispers.

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t _need_ it if you hadn’t made a giant hickey on my neck!”

He chuckles softly. “Call it a mark of my affection.”

“Did it _have_ to be on the most visible part of me?”

“You clearly haven’t had a hickey before.”

I gape. “Have too!”

“Ah-huh. _Suuuuure_.”

“Don’t give me that tone, Oliver. I have had a hickey before.”

“So why complain about this one then?”

“Thanks to you, I have to go to work with this —” I jab a finger in the hickey’s direction, “Until it fades, which probably  won’t be until next week. Maybe even next _month_! Would you _please_ stop looking at me like that?!”

“Like what?” He asks innocently, continuing to grin.

“That _stupid_ grin.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Are you calling my grin stupid?”

“Yes.”

“Admit it.” He narrows his eyes. “You like it.”

“Never said I didn’t. I merely called it stupid.”

“You know, you’re _incredibly_ adorable when you get all huffy.”

“Do I need to tell you to pull your head out of your ass again?”

He laughs, remembering the last time I said that to him. He then undoes my scarf one-handedly, tossing it over my shoulder onto the counter behind me.

“Oliver?”

“I want to look at it, okay?” He whispers. He gently places his fingers on it, causing me to inhale sharply. He smiles. “Have to admit, it’s pretty cool.”

“No, it’s not!” I reply. “I mean, _really_? A _hickey_?”

His beautiful blue eyes meet mine and he raises an eyebrow. “What? You don’t like it?”

“Not when I have to work as your EA, surrounded by people who all believe that we’ve been boinking this whole time and that’s the reason I got promoted from the IT department –”

His lips crash against mine, his right hand cupping the back of my head. He pulls me closer and I moan, opening my mouth to let his tongue slide in as I wrap my arms around his neck. He lifts me up, neither hand moving from where it is, and puts me down so I’m sitting on the counter. At least our faces are now on the same level – not that I’m complaining about being shorter than him; I like being shorter. I part my legs, letting him stand closer to me, which he accepts with a low growl. His hands drop simultaneously to my thighs, pushing my pencil skirt up even higher. I know where this is going. We don’t have time. I break the kiss and he chases me, but I still him by placing my hands on the front of his shoulders.

“We can’t.”

“Sure we can,” he replies with a playful smirk. He leans in to kiss me again, but I push him back.

“We have work!”

He sighs, looking down. “I thought you would’ve learnt by now that being the CEO and CEO’s EA has its perks.” He looks up at me, his hands running over my thighs. “We can be late.”

“Tha-Th-That might work perfectly fine for you, Mister billionaire-who’s-used-to-getting-his-own-way,” I reply, “but if you’re not there, and I’m not there… who’s meant to hold down the fort?”

“There’s a little device, Felicity. You may have heard of it, it’s called the _answering machine_.” He then leans in closer, stopping when his lips are an inch from mine. “People can leave messages on post-it notes on your desk. I think the employees of Queen Consolidated can survive part of the morning without us. It’s not like the place will go up in smoke if we’re not there.”

He kisses me again and I moan, letting myself get caught up in the moment. I’m here, kissing Oliver, the man of my dreams. It’s that lapse of thought that gives him a window of opportunity. He slides his hands over my back, searching for the zipper to my dress. I start undoing his shirt, one button at a time, and it’s not until both of us have our hands on the others bare skin that I begin to snap back to reality. I try to stop, but I can’t – my hands dropping to undo his belt. He pushes his fingers under my undies and I gasp against his lips as he touches my clit. That’s when my senses snap back into action. I push him as hard as I can with both my arms – he uses his strength to resist at first, but when I increase my efforts he takes a step back, taking his hand from my undies.

“Felicity?”

“Oliver, can we…” I close my eyes, taking a moment to collect my thoughts. _Why does he have this effect on me? Why can’t I think straight when I’m alone with him?_ “Can we just have breakfast and go to work?”

He stares at me for a moment and I see in his eyes as he thinks it all through. I see the lust they hold for me slowly fade, until they look as normal as you can get with Oliver Queen’s eyes. He nods. Once. “Sure.”

My expression drops as I realize I’ve hurt him. I reach my right hand out, taking his hand in mine. I meet his gaze, silently asking if he’s okay. He gives me his special, just-for-me smile and gently squeezes my hand.

****

“Where’s Felicity?” Diggle asks.

I swing up another level of the salmon ladder and then hang down. Dig is standing next to her desk, with the Chinese take-away he’d gone to get sitting on it. “She left.”

“Left?” He’s surprised. “Where?”

“Home,” I reply, grunting with the effort of swinging up another level.

I hear his sigh. When I look back at him, he’s got his arms crossed.

“What did you do this time?”

“Diggle. Why do you think it’s my fault?”

“Perhaps because it usually is. Remember Barry Allen?”

I sigh before letting go and dropping to the floor. I straighten, then look him in the eye and say, “It wasn’t me.”

He tilts his head slightly, in that “I don’t believe you” way and stares me down until I know I can’t hide it anymore. He’s going to keep this up – questioning me until I give in. He’d make a good cop.

I sigh. “We… slept together last night.”

He’s surprised. “Really?”

I let out an annoyed sigh. “Yes.”

“Personally, I think it’s great that you two finally took that leap.”

I shift my weight from my right foot to my left. “Why do I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming?”

“How come she’s not here now?”

I turn and head for my wing chun dummy, grabbing my eskrima sticks on the way.

“Oliver, you need to tell me what’s going on,” he says. “Or should I call Felicity?”

Keeping my back to him, I sigh before saying, “I told her that we couldn’t be together.”

“Oh, you did _not_ do that to her, Oliver! You can’t treat her like you’ve treated every other woman with whom you’ve had sex.”

“I _know_ , Diggle!” I say through gritted teeth. “I _know_.”

He walks over to me. “Okay… so talk me through what happened.”

“No.”

“Oliver. She’s a vital part of our team. We can’t afford to not have her around.”

“ _Exactly_ why I told her we can’t _be_ together!” I shout, turning around to face him, waving one of my sticks in front of me. I then let out a shaky sigh. “Today I got thinking about what it would be like if we really were together and…”, I sigh, “I kept going back to the same point – _it’s_ _too dangerous_. I keep visualizing Felicity getting injured, just like McKenna, and… Shado… and…” I shake my head, fighting back tears. “I _can’t_ let that happen to her, Diggle. I _won’t_ let that happen.”

“Did you tell her that?”

I look at him for a moment and then turn my attention to my dummy.

“You know, you act more like a spoilt five-year-old than a twenty-eight-year-old. It’s extremely tiring.”

I slam one of my sticks hard against the dummy and then snap it before turning to face him. “I _never_ want her to be hurt by what we do. I’ve already looked into her eyes too many times when she’s been frightened by close calls – Helena, The Count… I’ve heard her scared voice over our comm link, and… and now that Mirakuru is out there; in people like Roy… it’s _far_ too dangerous. If we’re together, she’s only going to be a larger target.”

“I get that, Oliver. What I don’t understand is why you don’t seem to be telling _her_ that.”

“She’s better off not knowing.”

“So, instead you’re lying to her and making her feel like she’s done something wrong by sleeping with you.” He shakes his head. “I _really_ don’t get you sometimes.” He turns and heads back to the food.

I turn back to the dummy and mutter, “Sometimes I don’t get myself either.”

****

In the morning, I walk out of the elevator, expecting Felicity to be standing there ready to blast me with either some babble about how I treated her yesterday or reel off my morning schedule. My chest tightens when I don’t see her. I cross to her desk and find another woman – brunette, pretty, and completely _not_ my Girl Wednesday – standing there. No, not just standing there, looking through a pile of paper stacked meticulously on the desk. I frown as I slowly approach.

“Can… Can I help you?”

She’s startled, jumping slightly – reminding me of Felicity, which just makes this worse – before finding her composure. “Mr. Queen!”

“That was my father. Call me Oliver.” _There’s another reminder of Felicity… when we first met._

“Yes… Oliver.”

_God, quit reminding me of her. It’s not helping._ “Who… who are you?”

“I’m Meagan,” she says, sticking her hand out. We shake. “I’m… I’m filling in for Ms. Smoak.”

“What?” My voice breaks. I clear my throat. “Why?”

“She… she called in sick.”

“She did?” _She wasn’t sick yesterday…_

“She sounded pretty awful, I… I… I thought you would’ve noticed her yesterday. I mean, she surely couldn’t have become that bad overnight.”

Then it hits me. She’s _not_ sick. She’s just _saying_ it to avoid me.

“Uh… she gave me a copy of your schedule.” She fumbles around looking for it on her – no, _Felicity’s_ – desk. She finds the piece of paper and waves it in the air for me to see. She then proceeds to recite it. After the third point though, I can’t handle it.

“You know what, Meagan?” I ask, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Why don’t you just give it to me and I’ll look over it myself.”

She gapes at me, eyes wide in horror. “Uh… are… are you sure?”

I smile at her. “Yeah, sure.” I reach out and gently pull the paper from her hand. “Why don’t you sit down and get yourself adjusted. I’ll be in my office. Reading this.”

“Okay,” she meekly says, nodding.

I smile at her, “Good.” I turn and head for my office.

“Mr. Que- uh, Oliver?”

I stop and sigh as I struggle to not roll my eyes. “Yes?”

“I… I don’t know how to log into her computer. I’ve only just started here this week and I haven’t been given a set of log in details yet. Her username’s already plugged in, I… I just don’t know her pass—”

I walk back over to her and she falls silent. I lean over and type in Felicity’s password – she told it to me a while ago when she wasn’t in the office and needed me to look up something. I watch as it logs in. “There you go.”

“Thanks, Mr. — uh, Oliver.”

“No worries. It was easier just to do it myself. She’s got a complicated password.”

“ _Very_ long.”

I smile. “That’s Felicity for you.”

She nods slowly, as if she’s not sure what to say in response. “Is there anything I can do for you? Get you a coffee perhaps? Ms Smoak told me how you like it.”

“Thanks, but… I’m alright.”

She nods. “Okay,” she mumbles.

I head into my office, walk straight to my desk and sit down. I let out a slow sigh – today won’t be very good.

_I miss Felicity._

****

I walk out the front doors of Queen Consolidated at 2:00 p.m. and over to Diggle who’s waiting beside the car, ready to take me to my meeting.

“No Felicity?”

I take a moment before I reply. “She’s ‘sick’.” I even do the air quotes.

He raises his eyebrow, but I raise my hand to stop him from discussing it further. We get in and remain in silence until we’ve joined the traffic.

“You remember where you have to go tonight, right?”

I frown. “No.”

“The _Sanctuary For Kids_ fundraising event. You said you’d attend and give a cheque on behalf of Queen Consolidated.”

“Great,” I mutter, before sighing. “Any chance I could send someone else instead?”

He shakes his head. “There’s no one else. Thea’s busy running _Verdant_ , Moira… since her trial…”

“Yeah, I know.”

“It won’t look good for you to be sending anyone else from the company at the eleventh hour, especially when the company’s reputation —”

“Isn’t all that great since Malcolm Merlyn’s attack.” I sigh, running a hand over my face. A charity event is the last place I want to be tonight, but there’s no choice. “Okay. We’ll go.”

“Sure,” he chuckles.

“ _What_?”

“She set this whole thing up.”

I frown. “Who?”

“Someone who’s currently pissed off at you,” he replies. “Someone who’s apparently ‘sick’.”

I groan, closing my eyes. “Felicity.”

He chuckles. “She won’t want to miss it. She really likes the work that they do.”

“So, she can go and I won’t.”

“We talked about that, Oliver.”

“Firstly, we talked about how there wasn’t anyone to take my place and you neglected to mention her.”

“So did you.”

“Secondly, sending my Executive Assistant, who happens to be a _huge_ supporter of the charity, instead of me seems completely reasonable. We’ll make up some reason for me not to attend – that I have an important meeting I can’t get out of, so I’ve sent my EA to deliver the cheque. She’s just as important as I am.”

I catch his raised eyebrow in the rear view mirror. “If she is,” he says, “why didn’t you explain the real reason why you told her you can’t be a couple?”

“That’s _completely_ different,” I reply. I think for a moment, and then add, “and _far_ more complicated.”

“Is it?”

I clench my jaw. “Fine. We’ll all go.”

He nods. “I’ll drop by her place while you’re in your meeting and remind her about the event.”

I nod. A few minutes pass in silence before I add, “Don’t bring up what happened between me and her.”

I catch his smirk in the rear view mirror. “Sure, Oliver.”

I sink into the seat – he’s _definitely_ going to bring it up.

****

_Knock, knock, knock_. I consider not moving from my couch. If I don’t answer, then I don’t have to deal with whoever it is. Knowing my luck, it will be Oliver, and… I’m not in the mood to deal with whatever drama he’s got on his hands. Or him trying to get back into my bed. Oh, that’s _never_ going to happen again!

_Knock, knock, knock_. I groan and push myself off the couch. _Why do people always turn up just after I get comfortable lying on the couch? _I unlock the door, ready to instantly start talking if it’s Oliver. I open it. “ _What_? Was laying into me the way you did –” I see that it’s Dig, not Oliver. “Oh. Hi.”

He’s smirking slightly, like he knows I thought it would be Oliver. “Feeling better?”

“That depends. How much do you know?”

“I know our mutual friend was a moron yesterday by sleeping with you and then hurting your feelings by saying you can’t be together. So, you’re avoiding him.”

I nod. “So, he told you.”

“Only because I threatened to call and ask you. He had the choice to either tell me or I’d find out from you.”

“If I were in your position, I would’ve made the call. Talking to him feels like talking to a brick wall.”

He chuckles. “Not going to argue there. May I come in?”

“Did _he_ send you?”

He shakes his head. I open the door further, holding it open for him. He enters, taking in my black, baggy t-shirt and grey sweat pants.

“I’ve never seen you looking this casual before.”

“That’s because you normally see me at work,” I reply, shutting the door. “This is what I look like when I’m not working.”

“I like it.”

“Thanks. There’s only so much of that formal work wear I can handle in my day.” I gesture towards the couch, and we both cross to it. “So… what’s with the visit? Not that I don’t like you coming over, I just… I’m not being a very good host. Can I get you a drink?”

He shakes his head, sitting down on the right end of my couch. “No, I’m fine.”

I nod and sit down on the other end of the couch, facing him with my left leg tucked under me and my right pulled up to my chest in front. “So… what’s up?”

“I wanted to drop by and remind you about tonight.”

“What, a phone call was too hard?”

He smiles. “Sometimes it’s nicer to talk face-to-face,” he replies. “Tonight—”

“Oh, no. If you need me to help with some mission, then you’re not going to get it.” I shake my head. “I can’t be around Oliver.”

“Actually, I was going to remind you about the _Sanctuary for Kids_ event.”

“That’s not tonight. That’s –”

“It’s tonight. Check your calendar if you don’t believe me.”

I get up and cross to the calendar on my wall beside my kitchen – just the sight of the kitchen causes me to recall yesterday morning, when Oliver and I nearly made love on the counter top, before he crushed my heart. It takes me a moment to refocus on the calendar in front of me. It doesn’t take me long to see that Dig is right. I sigh. _Great. Perfect. Just what I need. Getting stuck at an event for a good cause with the one man I’m trying my hardest to avoid like the plague._

I’d say I won’t go, but that would mean missing out on supporting such a great cause. We wouldn’t even be discussing it if I hadn’t pleaded with Oliver for us to attend.

“Is there –”

“We’ve talked about it and it won’t look good for the company if the CEO doesn’t show.”

I’m going to see him tonight, and if I were to avoid him entirely, I’d have to give up on going to this event. I sigh. “Alright. This is how it’ll work,” I say, turning to him and seeing his eyebrow rise. He’s smiling, so I know he’s impressed I’m being so assertive. “I’ll be there. _However_ … I’m driving myself to and from and under _no circumstances_ will he be allowed to pick me up. I want the freedom to leave _whenever_ I want.”

He nods. “Sounds reasonable.”

“I’ll talk to him, but _only_ about _Sanctuary For Kids_ and related things, like pointing out important people, or Queen Consolidated things. Everything else is out. If he crosses the line, I’m out of there faster than he can say ‘I am a stupid idiot’.”

He smiles, stifling a chuckle. “I’ll let him know.” He checks the time and then stands. “Much as I’d like to stay and talk more, I have to go pick Mr. Grumpy-Pants up from a meeting.”

I scoff. “Of _course_ you do.” I shake my head in disbelief.

“It’s my job. The one I get paid to do.”

I smile. “You know what, we should be getting paid to help him protect the city.”

He chuckles as he heads for the door. “Yes, we should.”

“We’ll have to get on that.” I cross to him, meeting him at my front door. “Thanks for coming.”

“You’re welcome.”

We hug and then he reaches for the door handle. He stops just as his fingers brush it.

“What is it, Dig?”

He looks at me. “I wasn’t going to bring this up, because it’s not something I have the right to say, but if I don’t tell you, I don’t think you’ll ever know.”

“Oooooo-kay,” I slowly reply. I frown. “What? Is everything alright?”

“It’s about Oliver.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Thanks, but… I don’t care about that.”

“It’s also about you.”

I tilt my head, lips pressed together in my signature move.

****

Diggle’s words echo in my mind as I walk through the shops in search of a dress. I’d planned on buying it weeks in advance of the event, but it’s been so busy that I lost track of how much time I had. Now I’m rushing to find something in the space of a few hours. Plus, Diggle’s bombshell has me completely spinning. _Oliver sacrificed his own happiness in order to protect me._

So, he told me we can’t be together because he’s afraid to see me injured – that by dating him, I’m even more at risk? To not tell me the truth? I sigh. Oliver can be _very_ difficult to handle sometimes. I’m glad Dig told me. He said I should have the opportunity to remind Oliver that I can handle it – that we shouldn’t resist what’s between us just because he’s afraid of what _might_ happen. I’m getting better at defending myself. I’ve never had it put to the test outside the foundry, but Dig keeps saying I’m improving during our training sessions. If Oliver’s really worried about my safety, he can help train me.

I walk into the first dress store I find, smile at the shop assistant and start browsing the racks of dresses. After several minutes, the shop assistant comes over.

“Hi,” she says with a smile. “Can I help you?”

“Hi,” I reply, smiling. “Yeah, I need a dress. For tonight.”

“Oh. Sudden change in plans?”

“Ah, no. Just… got busy at… work and, uh, forgot to look for one until now.”

She nods. “Okay. What’s it for?”

“A charity event,” I reply. “I was hoping for a floor-length one.”

She nods. “Well, we have plenty of all styles. The nicest floor-length ones – and my personal favorites – are over here.” She heads to the other side of the shop and I follow her. I watch as she looks along the rack, before extracting a navy blue strapless with a sequined design in the middle of the very top. “What about this one? I think it’d suit you.”

“It’s beautiful, but…” I shift uncomfortably.

“Not your style?”

“No,” I’m quick to reply. “Just… not the color I had in mind.”

She nods. “That’s okay.” She puts it back on the rack. “What color would you like?”

“Green,” I reply. “But… not lime green. Something… something darker.”

She nods, stepping away from me as she scans the rack. “I saw an emerald dress that would look good… ah- _huh_!” She pulls one out – it’s emerald, beautiful bejeweled straps, tight chiffon bodice going down to a mermaid tail. She senses my hesitation. “Why don’t I find several emerald dresses and you can try them on. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt working here, it’s that you don’t know what it’ll look like until you’ve tried it on.”

****

After trying on 10 dresses of various styles, I stand in the dressing room staring at myself in the mirror. I have my doubts over this one. Sure, the color is exactly like Oliver’s Arrow suit – that beautiful dark Lincoln green. I smile – Lincoln green is the color associated with Robin Hood – and I can’t help but chuckle at the irony. It’s the fact that it’s quite revealing – a lot of skin is showing. A _lot_ more than I’m used to showing. In public. _Ever_. But, isn’t that the point? Aren’t I intentionally seeking out a dress to drive him crazy, in order to get him back for crushing me yesterday?

There’s a soft knock on the door. “How’s it going in there?”

“Good. Thanks.”

“Find anything you like?”

A slight groan escapes my lips before I can stop it.

“Would you like a second opinion?”

I hesitate – _do I?_ Before I can think any further, I reach for the lock on the door and open it for her.

She comes in, closing the door behind her. “Oh, you look _beautiful!_ ”

“I… I’m not sure about this one.”

“Really?” She’s surprised. “Why?”

“It’s just…” I trail off and then sigh.

“A little more revealing than you’re used to?”

I nod, surprised she’d get it right with her first guess.

“Don’t be surprised, darling,” she replies, waving her hand. “I assumed it’s that because of the type of clothes you’re wearing.”

I glance at my clothes – a long-sleeved top and jeans – totally non-revealing. I give her a small smile. She then turns me towards the mirror, her hands staying on my shoulders as we both look at my reflection.

“Whomever he is,” she says, “he’s _very_ lucky to have you at his side.”

I raise my eyebrow, jaw dropping open. “I… uh…”

She smiles. “I wouldn’t have picked you as an emerald woman – I thought sapphire – and I usually don’t get that wrong, so the color must be his favorite,” she explains. “Plus, I noted your reactions to each of the dresses as I picked them out.”

I nod once, before I drop my focus to my reflection.

“Okay, something’s up. Talk to me. Never have I seen a woman wearing _that_ sort of dress look _that_ sad.”

“Things are…”, I sigh, “complicated.”

“Well,” she replies, “I think you’ll look stunning in this.”

I look up, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “Really? You’re not just saying that to get a sale?”

She smiles. “Not at all. I have a natural skill for this. Besides, I have experience when it comes to dressing to impress a guy, even when it’s complicated.” She winks.

I tug my bottom lip between my teeth and move my jaw from side to side. I take a deep breath in. I don’t realize I’ve held it until the image of Oliver’s reaction springs into my mind and I exhale in a very shaky breath.

“He’s one giant fool if he sees you in this and isn’t knocked dead.”

****

“Wanna pace yourself?” Dig asks, as I swap my empty glass for yet another champagne on a waiter’s tray. “That’s your seventh.” He pauses. “Plus, you had three beers before we got here.”

“No,” I reply, turning to him and scowling. “You’re my driver, Dig. It doesn’t matter if I’m drunk.”

“True,” he replies, stepping closer as he adjusts his jacket’s front, “but you’re not just at one of your parties, Oliver. You’re representing your family’s business. Remember its shaky reputation.”

I sigh, pursing my lips. “I stuffed up the _one_ relationship that I had the _best_ chance of seeing last a _very long_ time. Try as I might, I’m still the commitaphobe that I was before Lian Yu. Now I have to be here the whole night, in _her_ presence.” I pause and smile as a couple my father knew passes us. “I _really_ didn’t mean to hurt her, but her rules for tonight make it clear just how much I did. It’s _torture_ to see her hurt,” I have to take a moment to stop the tears that threaten to fall. “While I’d rather let her have her space, I _can’t_ tonight because of this event. So, _excuse me_ if I get drunk to get through it.”

“You wouldn’t have to be in this position if you hadn’t lied to her,” he replies. “You could have prevented all of this awkwardness had you just been honest.”

I glare. “You _don’t_ think I already _know_ that?” I say through gritted teeth. I continue normally, “I’ve regretted lying to her _every_ moment since I saw how much it _devastated_ her.” I down my champagne in one go. “I have the unfortunate natural talent of _destroying_ every relationship.”

“I say if things don’t work out in a relationship… it’s not meant to be.”

“Totally _not_ helpful.”

“Except with Felicity,” Dig replies. “She’s the exception.”

“Oh? What do you say of that situation?”

“You were a moron –” I glare at his insult, even though I know I deserve it. “— by sleeping with her and then crushing her by lying to her face.” He looks around casually, his eyes not on me when he adds, “However, that’s completely within the way you act, so I’m really not surprised.”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other, eyebrow raised. “Is that how you really perceive me, Diggle?”

He slowly looks at me. “It’s how most of the city sees you.” He replies. “Although, I had expected you not to be foolish enough to pull that one on our Felicity.”

I sigh. “Yeah,” I mutter. “So did I.”

“So why did you do it?”

“Because…” I sigh. “I care _so deeply_ for Felicity. She’s the first woman I know who’s had that effect on me. That’s what really has me scared, Diggle.” I press my lips into a tight line, fighting back all of my emotions. _‘Because of the life that I lead… I just think that it’s better to not be with someone that I could really care about.’_ I told her that only a few months ago. At the time, I was still in denial about my feelings for her. It hurt her back then, but that was nothing compared to the sheer devastation she feels now. “I _really care_ about her… and… I –” I shake my head. “I _can’t_ lose her. She’s too important to me – and not just because she’s our computer genius hacker who’s always got our back, or because I can’t function to my best ability as the Arrow without her. No, she’s _more_ than that to me, Diggle. She’s…” I choke. I want to say the words, but I can’t. I urge them to come out, but they stick in my throat, refusing to budge. With a heavy sigh, I turn and seek out another waiter with champagne.

It’s my pursuit of more champagne that causes me to cross paths with her. Not cross – _crash_ – right into her.  I wasn’t looking where I was going and she’s got her eyes on her cell. I instinctively cup her elbow, only to receive a rather forceful glare, so I quickly withdraw it. That’s when I notice exactly what she’s wearing – a stunning chiffon dress, a similar shade of green to my Arrow outfit, that clings to her slim figure perfectly. The spaghetti straps are sequined, giving way to a sweetheart neckline. On the left side is a slit that goes right up her leg, almost to her hip – _very seductive_. I snap my mouth shut, suddenly conscious of the fact that it’s dropped open. I turn my focus to her face, finding it tilted up in that defensive way of hers. Her beautiful golden locks are curled slightly to frame her face. Her glasses are gone, leaving her gorgeous blue eyes exposed to the world, as they should be. Not that I’m against her glasses – I love her glasses… _Oh God!_ I’m having a mental ramble like one of her audible rambles… _crap_.

As she side-steps me, I’m yanked from my thoughts when she happily says “Diggle!”

I watch her pass me to greet Dig with a hug and that’s when I see the back of her dress. The straps curl under the back of her arms to meet the green material at her side. The back is open, revealing her entire back to everyone – to _me_ – all the way down to the small (which I gently caressed the other night after we made love). A small ‘v’ shaped cut lies in the middle of the back of her dress, exposing just a little more of the small of her back. I swallow hard, aroused by her look. It’s in this moment that it dawns on me the reason behind her looking like this – _it’s for me_.

They’re talking, but Dig looks briefly at me… and smirks. Clearly my reaction is written all over my face. I turn away to get my emotions under control. As if tonight wasn’t going to be hard enough being around her, add in the fact that she’s wearing _that_ dress and Dig is reading my emotions like a damn book… it’s going to be one _hell_ of a long night.

****

The night drags on – two hours feels like forever – and I have to smile and pretend that nothing’s going on, like I haven’t messed up with the woman for whom I’ve spent the last year longing. No, no one can know that I’ve done it yet again. I’ve messed up another relationship; made it crash and burn. It doesn’t help that she’s wearing _that_ dress, reminding me without a single word of exactly what I’ve done. So… this is my punishment. I get the woman of my dreams, mess it up like I always do, and karma slaps me in the face. _Hard_.

She’s standing a few feet from me, deep in conversation with some member of _Sanctuary For Kids_ , with her exposed back facing me. Two nights ago replays in my mind – watching her slowly bounce up and down, her skin flush and covered in sweat, a look of sheer pleasure on her face as she digs her nails into my thighs. I clench my jaw, hands curling into fists, as I resist the urge to go over to her right now. I want to grab her by the elbow, take her out to my car, pull that dress off and repeat the previous night then and there.

I down the end of my champagne – I lost count of how many I’ve had some time ago. I’ve tried so hard – so, so, _so_ hard – over the course of tonight to forget her, to keep my mind off her, but… I _can’t_. I want her. I _need_ her. I need her more than _anything_ else. More than being a hero, son or brother. More than air. She’s my rock. My partner. Hell, I never thought I’d think this, but… she’s my _soulmate_.

We presented the cheque to the charity after a simple, polite chat with Amanda Tapping and Damien Kindler (should’ve gotten someone else to take my place tonight, for I have no idea who either of them are despite Felicity at my side whispering to me that Tapping’s an “ _amazing_ actress”, while Kindler’s a “TV writer and producer”). I wanted to go almost immediately after that, but Felicity and Dig had both teamed up and convinced me otherwise. I honestly think part of their plan is to keep me here where she can torture me with how _sexy_ she looks… and _damn it, Oliver!_ I grimace. _Stop going there._

My eyes fall back to her, try as I might not to let them, and it’s all too much. I can’t take this anymore. I stand up from our table and walk right over to her. I put on my best smile as I catch the eye of the woman with whom she’s deep in discussion.

“Oh, Mister Queen,” she says.

Felicity whips her head to look at me as I come to a stop on her right side. I see the anger in her eyes over my intrusion, but the polite smile she’s displaying so the woman doesn’t notice the tension between us, completely undoes the anger.

I smile back at her, taking the opportunity to recall the woman’s name that Felicity said hours ago. Ah, yes! Carole Appleby. I turn to her, and say, “Hello, Miss Appleby. How are you?”

“I’m very well. You?”

“I’m good. This is a wonderful event.”

Carole smiles. “Yes, it is. I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Felicity here was just telling me of your _generous_ donation.”

“Oh, was she?” I ask, looking at Felicity with a raised eyebrow. I wasn’t expecting her to be singing my praises to anyone tonight.

“Yes, she did. Don’t you worry,” Carole pats my forearm, “we’ll put your donation to good use.”

“I’m sure you will,” I smile at Carole. “Now…” I place my hand on Felicity’s elbow, ignoring the slight glare she gives me for the physical contact. “Excuse us. I need to talk with Felicity for a moment.”

“You do?” Felicity asks. _She seems so shocked._

“Yes… about work.”

Felicity’s brow furrows, but Carole doesn’t seem to notice. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. It was lovely to talk with both of you.”

I look at her, “The pleasure’s all mine, Miss Appleby.”

She smiles at both of us and I watch her leave. I don’t turn back to Felicity until she’s out of ear shot.

“ _What?_ ” Felicity snaps.

“What a polite way to speak to your boss when we’re standing in a public place.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she sarcastically replies. “I wasn’t aware we were being polite to each other after you had your head in your _ass_ yesterday!”

I look over the top of her head as I let out an exasperated sigh. I’m trying to withhold a counter attack on her, because this time, I deserve that. I look back down at her. “I need to talk to you.”

“Wow, way to go Oliver,” she snarks. “That’s a line normally used by women when they want to break up with the asshole of a boyfriend. Oh, wait. _We’re not dating_.”

I sigh. “Are you _seriously_ going to be like this?”

“For now, yes.”

I sigh in annoyance, looking around the room to see where we could possibly go to talk more… privately. I spot a door at the side of the large ballroom. I curl my fingers around her elbow, gently turn her and cross towards it, gently pulling her with me.

“Oliver? What are you doing?” She asks, trying to break free unsuccessfully. Not that I’m holding her elbow tightly. I’d never do that. Not to her. Not intentionally, anyway.

“We’re going somewhere more private,” I reply. “To chat.”

“ _What?_ No!”

I pull her closer to me as we continue to walk, bringing my lips close to her ear – inhaling her wonderful perfume in the process. I have to take a moment to suppress the arousal spreading through me. I whisper, “Don’t make a scene, Felicity.”

“Says the man pulling me _against my will_ into…” she looks at the door we’re approaching and frowns. “Is that the fire escape stairwell?”

I open the door, taking in the harsh grey concrete walls of the stairwell. There’s a landing stretching all the way across to the other wall, several feet in front of me, with the staircase in two parts to my left. One set above the other, like they’re individual sets rather than one continuous. “So it seems,” I reply, guiding her through first and letting her go.

She walks further into the space. I’m only a few steps behind and we remain in silence until the door’s shut.

“Okay, get to the point right away,” she says, spinning to face me. “What are you _so insistent_ on talking about in private, _right now_?”

I walk closer, getting as close as I can. She backs off, but I keep coming, invading her personal space. She ends up with her back against the side wall, my hands on either side of her elbows to block her in.

“O-O-Oliver.”

I bite back the groan, remembering the last time she said that – _oh, how that was a much happier time!_

“You can’t tell me that this,” I drop my eyes down to her dress and then back up into her eyes, “isn’t all for me. The Felicity Smoak I know wouldn’t _dare_ wear something like that. You’re mad at me… rightly so, I must admit… and you _know_ how much it drives me _crazy_ seeing you in those short skirts you wear in the office and at the foundry. I can only assume you’re getting back at me by wearing this –” I take a moment to gently glide my right hand over the chiffon material clinging to her left side, catching her sharp inhale at my touch. “Well, congratulations, Miss Smoak. You’ve _officially_ driven me mad.”

“Well, the tables have turned.”

I let out a deep growl and she jumps slightly at the noise. “Will you _stop_ being so fucking angry with me, Felicity? _Yes_ , I admit I did the _stupidest_ thing last night after doing the most _ah-maze-ing_ thing the night before that. At least I hurt you quickly, unlike you who’s _dragging_ it out until it’s absolutely _ex-cruc-i-at-ting_.” I lean my face in a bit closer to hers. “What you’re doing to me is _beyond_ torture – maybe even _worse_ than the five _years_ I spent on Lian Yu!”

Her eyes sadden and her bottom lip trembles. I don’t pay much attention to this, as it’s her typical reaction to me mentioning the island, but what comes next causes my heart to tighten. She drops her gaze and turns her head to her left, in what I perceive as an attempt to shut me out.

“Felicity.”

“No,” she whispers.

“ _Fe-lissssssssss-ity_.”

She keeps her head there. I slowly lift my right hand up, gently hold her chin between my thumb and finger, and gently turn her to look at me. She lets me, but keeps her eyes closed. “Felicity,” I whisper. “Look at me.”

She shakes her head, lips pressed together and brow furrowed. “No.”

I sigh at her stubbornness. “Please.”

It takes her a minute, but she finally does. I smile at her.

She sighs. “Yes, fine. This dress _is_ to get back at you. It’s not just because of what you said to me last night, but also the fact that you _lied_ to me through those words.” I raise my eyebrow. “Dig told me this afternoon.” I groan, shaking my head in disbelief that he’d broken our agreement. “Yeah, he told me. He had the _decency_ to tell me what _you_ should’ve told me in the first place, _you big fool_!” She hits me, but it’s so half-hearted that it has no effect on me. “Why the _hell_ couldn’t you have just been honest and told me outright that you’d be concerned for my safety if we were together? You should know by now that I can’t handle being abandoned, and the way you pushed me away –” she starts to choke up.

“Hey,” I whisper. I gently cup her face with both hands, gently rubbing the tears from her face with my thumbs. “It’s okay. Don’t cry.”

“It felt like I was losing you, and I –” she lets out a sob.

“Oh, hey,” I whisper, feeling my tears swelling. I pull her into a hug, holding her tightly against me. Her arms wrap around me, hugging me back. Her small frame is shaking as she sobs. I tuck the top of her head under my chin. “You’re not going to lose me.” I then add, in a whisper. “ _Ever_.”

We stand there for several minutes, her sobs slowly fading. She then pushes herself slightly back and I relax my arms to let her stand far enough away so we can look into each others’ eyes.

“Why weren’t you honest with me? Why couldn’t you tell me the truth?”

I cup her left cheek with my right hand. “I’m so sorry that I didn’t. I thought...” I let out a shaky breath. “I thought you were better off not knowing I was putting your safety before us, because…” I gently rub her cheek with my thumb. “I can’t bear to lose you, Felicity. I’ve seen too many people I care about die because I was unable to save them –” my mind flashes to Dad, Shado and Tommy. I close my eyes, struggling to stop the tears. “I care _so_ much for you, I…” I shake my head, forcing the images of losing her from my mind. “I can’t…” I lean my forehead against hers. “I _can’t_ live without you in my life.” I hook my left arm around her waist, pulling her completely against me. “I _can’t_ live without you by my side. You’re more than just my EA or my brainy hacker… _you_ … you’re _my life_. You’re _my rock_. I… I _need_ you.”

She takes hold of the sides of my jacket, holding them tightly as she practically pants. Right now, I so desperately want to know what’s going on in her head.

“I… I… I need you, too.”

I tilt forward, lips closing in on hers – but I pause when they’re just about to touch. “Really?”

She scoffs, her breath tingling against my skin. “Oh, _fuck,_ Oliver! _Seriously?_ ”

I smile, chucking. “God, I love it when you get angry at me. You’re so damn feisty.”

“Just hurry up and kiss me already.”

My grin widens and I claim her lips in one bruising kiss – using my weight to gently push her back against the wall, causing her to moan. Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders and up the back of my neck. She starts grabbing fistfuls of my hair, nails digging into my scalp. I place my hands on the back of her thighs, bend my legs and, with a slight grunt from the effort, lift her up. She instinctively wraps her legs around my waist. I find the very top of her dress’ side slit and slide my hand under the material to find her undies. Only… _she isn’t wearing any_.

I smirk against her lips. _Who knew Felicity Smoak could be that risqué?_ I push my hips forward, a silent indication of what I want to do. She moans as my erection rubs against her and I know she understands. Instead of her hands going down to my pants, they land on my shoulders and she pushes me back, breaking our kiss.

“No!”

“Why?”

Her jaw drops open. “Do you remember _where_ we are?”

“No one’s going to come in here.”

She raises an eyebrow. “What if there’s a fire?”

“Like _that’s_ going to happen.”

“It’s actually got the _same_ chances as you coming back from a mission with an injury.”

I smile, bringing my face close to hers. “Then… we’re just going to have to make it a quickie.”

“Ol-”

I claim her lips in another kiss and she moans again. Her hands run through my hair, her nails scraping along my scalp. I push her against the wall, pinning her between me and it, so I can run my hands up and down her body. She rocks her hips back and forth, moving them in a circular pattern, rubbing against me – and I moan. _Loudly_.

I reach down to undo my belt, but before I get any further than brushing it with my fingertips, there’s a loud _BANG!_ to my right. Startled by it, we break our kiss and look towards the door. I see who’s standing there and close my eyes as I quietly groan.

“So, the rumors are true.”

“Did you want something, Isabel?”

**_To be continued – Chapter 3 coming soon_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say that 'Sanctuary For Kids' is a real charity. Their site is here: http://www.sanctuaryforkids.org. Amanda Tapping, Damien Kindler and Carole Appleby are real people. They're a great organization, and I highly recommend you check them out.
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner than this one. And the Chapter figure of 4 is just as far as I have it planned out for now -- there's still the chance I can go further than that.


	3. (If Only We Had) Just A Minute Longer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team are faced with another twist in their case, one that brings a new lead and a warning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to the lovely Kate G for proofing this! Never going to stop praising her! (She fixed a number of disastrous lines...)
> 
> Sorry for taking so long with this chapter, I lost my muse for a while...not helped by the fact I also had to stop myself from writing too much smut early on.
> 
> Also, the references to season 2 are a little skewed -- some things have happened, some haven't. It's a bit of a mix of everything from episode 15 ('The Promise') onwards. So excuse the weirdness on that count. I blame the fact I've been working on this chapter for a few months.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Ol-”

He claims my lips in another kiss and I moan again. I run my hands through his hair, nails scraping along my scalp. He pushes me against the wall, pinning me between him and it, and he runs his hands up and down my body. I rock my hips back and forth, moving them in a circular pattern, rubbing myself against him – and he moans. _Loudly_.

He reaches down to undo his belt, but before he can, there’s a loud _BANG!_ to my left. Startled, we break our kiss and look towards the door. Isabel’s standing there – the one woman who can give us the most hell, catching us like this. Oliver closes his eyes and quietly groans.

“So the rumors are true,” she says, in that usual slight tone of nastiness.

“Did you want something, Isabel?” Oliver asks, keeping me pinned to the wall, hands on my hips, as he glares at her. “More importantly, _what_ are you doing here?”

“Checking up on what you’re doing sneaking into a fire escape stairwell in the middle of a charity event with your…” She looks at me, and almost mockingly continues, “Executive Assistant.”

“To talk in private.” He gruffly says. “And we _weren’t_ sneaking.”

She raises her eyebrow. “Do you always ‘talk’ with her _pinned_ against the wall?”

Oliver clenches his jaw, and I can see he’s struggling to keep his anger contained. I place my hand on the crook of his left elbow, to reassure him, and his eyes flick to meet mine. He helps me to my feet, and I smooth out my dress. He then stands slightly in front of me, taking a slight protective stance.

“What the _hell_ are you doing here?” He asks her. “Before you make some snarky comment, I mean here at the event.”

“You should know by now that I attend a lot of the events you do. We both equally represent Queen Consolidated.”

“Actually, that’s where you’re wrong, Miss Rochev,” he says, barely keeping his anger under control. “You see, in case you forgot, only _one_ of us is a Queen. The non-Queen _doesn’t_ share equal representation with a Queen, no matter how much power you _believe_ you hold in my family’s business.” He walks closer to her. “I will _always_ have a bigger stake in Queen Consolidated than you. I’m a little tired of you having a go at me.” He stops well into her personal space. “However, what I’m well and _truly_ over is you disrespecting Felicity. You have a problem, you attack _me_.”

“If it wasn’t for my involvement, there’d _be_ no Queen Consolidated left standing.” She says, staring up at him. “At least not the one you have now.”

I watch as he clenches his fists, fighting the urge to attack her. It would not be good for Oliver Queen, CEO who knows very little fighting skills, to expose himself to someone like Isabel Rochev.

“As much as I’m grateful that you helped save my family’s business, it _doesn’t_ mean you have the right to continuously harass the best staff member in my company.”

“Well, I could say the same thing about you.”

“ _Excuse me?_ ” I don’t need to see his face to know he’s very angry.

“Your little act with your ‘ _darling_ ’ blonde bombshell over there is easily sexual harassment.”

His fists tighten, and I know he’s about to explode. I have to do something – get us out of there. “Uh…Oliver!”

“What?” He looks over his shoulder, his voice sounding calmer than with her.

I walk closer. “We’ve got to go.”

He turns to me, frowning in confusion.

“Yes,” I reply, smiling. “Remember…that…meeting?”

“Meeting? What meeting?” This time it’s her – and she’s confused.

“A meeting that doesn’t concern you,” I bite back, not bothering to hide my hatred for her. I hook my arm with Oliver’s. “We don’t want to be late.”

“Yes,” he says, with a smile to me.

He steps around her, gently pulling me with him, holds the door open for me and we walk side-by-side back into the main room. As we walk away with linked arms, he drops his head until his lips are at my ear, and whispers, “Thank you for getting us out of there.”

I look at him and smile. “Thank you for defending me.”

He smiles. “I’ve always defended you while talking to her.”

I give him my ‘awwwww!’ look, and he smiles before kissing my cheek. As he pulls away, Dig walks over to us.

“I see you two have reconciled.”

“Yes, now get us out of here,” I reply. “Quickly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Do I…?” He shakes his head.

“It’s not that, Dig,” Oliver says. He then thinks it over. “Okay, it’s that a little…” I bow my head to hide the blush. “But we just had a close call with Isabel, and it’s best that we make a hasty exit before she can come at us – at Felicity – again.”

Dig nods, smirking slightly. “Alright.”

Dig heads for the main door. Oliver looks over his shoulder back at the fire escape door. I see his jaw clench and I glance back to see Isabel walking away from the door as she stares at us. Oliver unlinks our arms, placing his hand on the small of my back. In sync, we both turn back around and follow Dig – Oliver’s hand never leaving my back, except for when I put my coat on after picking it up from the cloak room.

****

“Hey, Ollie, did you – _oooohhhhhh_.”

I close my eyes, groaning as I hear my sister’s voice behind me as we ascend the stairs. With a sigh and a look of annoyance, I turn around. Thea’s standing at the door into the lounge, eyebrow raised, with her eyes wide and head tilted sideways as she stares at Felicity. The latter gives a small wave.

“Hi Thea,” Felicity says.

“ _Well_ ,” Thea says, with a grin. “About _time_ you two!”

“Did you want something, Thea?”

She looks at me with a frown. “Aw, poor Ollie wants his booty call.”

I sigh and shift my weight from one foot to the other.

“I just wanted to see if you had a good time,” she says. “But, I can see that you did. I’m just going to head back in here and leave you to it.”

“That would be my preference.”

Thea gives me her ‘don’t-use-that-tone-with-me’ look, before waving bye to Felicity and walking back into the lounge. I look at Felicity and she looks at me.

“You could’ve been nicer,” she says, as we walk up the stairs.

“That was nothing she can’t handle.”

“Oliver.”

“What?”

“Would it kill you to be a little more sensitive?”

I sigh. “She’s my sister. We’re _meant_ to squabble.”

We reach the second floor corridor. “Wow. You’re cranky tonight.”

I tug her closer, pulling her flush against my side. “That’s because I was _so close_ to being with you tonight, and we got interrupted in the _worst_ possible way. So, you’ll forgive me for being a little snarky.”

I lean in, pressing my lips on hers – she moans as she parts her lips to let me slide my tongue in. I press her up against the wall and she moans again. I so desperately want to take her right now – I don’t even care that we’re in the corridor, where Thea or Mom can catch us. I’m sick of waiting. _I want her now_.

It takes her a lot of effort to push me back, her hands staying on the front of my shoulders to keep me at bay. “Not here.”

I take her hand and pull her quickly down the corridor. When we reach my bedroom door, I pull her against me and kiss her. I back into the room, pulling her with me, and she kicks the door shut. In a second, I have her pinned against the door moaning loudly as I run kisses along her neck. I wrap my fingers around her dress straps and pull them down her arms. I want this stunning green dress off her fast. She shimmies out of it and it drops to the floor. I groan as I find that she’s gone completely commando tonight. The sight of her standing there completely naked arouses me more. She looks at me seductively, eyes half-closed, as she starts to unbutton my shirt. I pull my jacket off, tossing it aside, and I’m reaching to touch her again but she’s tugging my shirt off. Impatient, I pull it off and toss it aside. I cup the back of her head with my right hand, pulling her roughly into a kiss, as I push her harder against the door. I slide my left hand between her thighs, feeling that she’s already very wet. The second my fingers touch her folds, she moans loudly against my lips.

Her moans are the only sound. That is, until my cell rings. I ignore it, teasing her by rubbing my fingers through her folds. She breaks the kiss, turning her head in the direction of my jacket.

“You going to answer that?” She asks as I kiss her neck.

“Nope,” I reply against her skin.

“What if it’s Arrow-related?”

“He’s not available tonight.”

She cups my face with both hands and pulls me far enough away to look into my eyes. “Oliver, I am not letting you abandon our cause just because you want me.”

I sigh, knowing that I’m not going to change her mind. “This…” I lean in slightly closer. “Isn’t over. To. Be. _Continued_.”

She smiles. I then walk over to my jacket, pull my cell out and check the caller ID – Diggle. “Dig?” I ask the second it’s to my ear.

“Sorry to…interrupt,” I can hear him hold back his chuckle. “But there’s been an incident that the Arrow should look into.”

I pull it away from my ear and hit loud speaker. “You’re on speaker now, Dig. Tell us what’s going on.”

“I decided to return to the foundry, just to check in on the scans running –”

“Oh, you really didn’t have to, Dig.”

“Well, I’m glad I did Felicity. Because as I was, an alert came up,” he replies. “There’s been a large explosion in the Glades. Entire blocks have been either flattened or severely damaged. Witnesses have been telling reporters that they saw a massive fireball rip across several blocks. Sounds like it’s a pretty powerful bomb, though we won’t know for sure until the SCPD put out their statement.”

I look at Felicity. “Is it possible…?”

She raises her eyebrow. “For it to be another one of the bombs that nearly killed us the other night?” She pouts slightly as she thinks. “Possibly, but…I can’t tell for sure. Not on what Dig’s just said.”

“Alright. What’s the next move?”

“Let’s go to the foundry.”

My eyebrow shoots up.

“I want to take a look at the news footage, see what’s going on. We need to look into this, Oliver. This is more important than –” She catches herself just in time and stops.

I sigh, closing my eyes. “Okay. We’re on our way, Dig.”

****

I follow Oliver down the stairs into the foundry, to find Dig and Sara standing at my computers. Oliver had changed his clothes after Dig’s call and we’d stopped by my apartment for me to change.

“Any more developments?” Oliver asks as we cross side-by-side to the others.

“Just more witnesses saying the same thing,” Dig replies.

“I could determine for sure if it is another of those bombs if I had a piece of shrapnel to examine and test,” I add.

Oliver nods. “I’ll call Quentin.”

“No, Ollie. I will.”

“You sure, Sara?”

“He knows I’m alive. Knows I’m the Black Canary. I can do it.”

Oliver nods. “Sure.”

She nods and then steps away as she pulls out her cell. Oliver’s restless, shifting his weight from foot-to-foot. I place my hand on his arm.

“Did we really need to come in just to have Sara call Quentin?”

“We’d have to come in eventually for me to look at the shrapnel.”

He sighs before dropping his head to be close to mine. “We could’ve had a few hours alone…”

I rest my forehead against his. “This is more important. We’ll continue that later.”

“Promise me?” He whispers

“I promise,” I whisper.

Dig clears his throat and we look at him. He points with his chin in Sara’s direction and when I look over, she’s slowly walking back over to us.

“He can get us a sample,” she says. “I’m meeting him in an hour.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t—”

“I do,” he snaps, causing her to lean back slightly. “I want to find out what he knows about the case so far.”

Sara nods.

****

Two hours later, Oliver and Sara return from seeing Quentin. Oliver forcefully returns his bow to its stand, Dig and I exchanging glances as Sara steps up beside me.

“Compliments of my father,” she says, holding out an evidence bag containing several large pieces of shrapnel.

I take it, smiling slightly in thanks. “How did it go?” I look worriedly at Oliver, who has his back to me.

“He didn’t know much more than we already knew,” Sara responds. “Just the same as what we heard on the news. They’re still waiting for their own results before they’re willing to say anything. He was able to sneak that out – they collected more than they needed for their tests, so that won’t be missed.”

I nod. “I’ll get right on it.”

“I want it done quickly,” Oliver says, turning around to face me. “If the bomber is still out there terrorizing our city, I want to find out who he is and _eliminate_ him.”

“We will.”

He looks at me, almost staring, and I see how stressed this is making him. He sighs, rubbing a gloved hand over his face. “I thought this was all over. That the threat was gone when we were nearly killed a couple of nights ago.”

“Hate to be the one to say it,” Roy says, stepping off the stairs and crossing to us, “but these things are famous for coming back to bite us on the ass.”

Oliver shoots Roy a glare. “Where have you been?”

“Working. My job’s not exactly a daytime thing, remember?”

I turn my attention back to the evidence in my hands. I stand, cross to our microscope and put on a pair of gloves. I carefully extract one piece of shrapnel from the bag and examine it under the microscope. I spend the next few minutes doing this for each of the pieces. I’m so focused, I forget about the others until I feel a hand come to rest on my shoulder. I look up to find Oliver standing beside me, now dressed casually and looking down at me, waiting for me to speak.

“I’m going to need to run a full analysis of it, but…I think we’re looking at the same bomber. The coloring to the metal is – as far as I can tell – the same as that on the bomb we encountered a few nights ago.”

His eyes shift, staring off at nothing above my head, and I see him struggle with his emotions. I peel off a glove and lay my hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We’re going to stop them, Oliver.”

It takes a moment for him to give a slight nod, his eyes still not back on me. I pull the other glove off, dump it on the table and then stand up. His eyes snap to mine as his hand slowly drops from my shoulder.

“It’s late…and the analysis is going to take several hours to complete. So why don’t I get it going, and then we can all go home? I can drop in tomorrow and check on it.”

He exhales slowly, his brow furrowed with all the worry he’s letting build up in him. I cup his face with both my hands, gently pull his head down and kiss his forehead.

“We’re going to succeed,” I whisper, my lips brushing his skin. “Don’t give up hope.”

His arms band around my waist, easily pulling me into him. He buries his face into the side of my neck, his every exhale warm against my bare skin. I close my eyes, arms wrapped around him, hands splayed over his shoulder blades. It feels right being in his embrace…

Dig clears his throat, reminding us that we’re not alone. Oliver pulls back slightly, his hands dropping to rest on my hips.

“Go home,” he says to the other three. “There’s nothing more to be done tonight.”

“You sure?” Dig asks.

Oliver nods. “Felicity’s going to be running a full analysis on the shrapnel –”

“That’ll take several hours to run its course, so there’s no need for all of us to be here,” I finish for him, and Oliver smiles. “In fact, as soon as it’s running, I’m heading home myself.”

Dig nods, smirking. “You two need to stop finishing each others’ sentences,” he says. “For our sake.”

“We’re…not,” Oliver replies.

Dig simply smiles. We then say our goodbyes and I turn my attention back to the shrapnel as they leave. Oliver helps me prepare some samples for the analysis and in no time we’ve got it running. With that running, I turn my attention back to my computers, not bothering to sit down, my fingers flying over the keys. I don’t even notice how much time passes until Oliver steps up behind me, arms wrapping around my waist. He places kisses on my neck.

“It’s late,” he whispers, his breath tickling lightly.

“Sorry, I just…I wanted to set a search running.”

“What for?”

“To find any other information that might help us find who is behind all of this.”

His arms tighten around my waist, pulling me closer against him. “You almost done?”

I type in a few more things and then flick all the screens off. “Yep.”

“Good.” He runs a line of kisses up my neck and a moan escapes my lips before I can stop it. “I’m taking us back to my bed, and there’s _nothing_ that’s going to stop me from getting both of us into it.”

I hum contentedly, closing my eyes as I press back into him. “Sounds like a good idea. I won’t resist.”

I feel a puff of air on my neck as he chuckles. “Perfect.”

****

I sigh, fighting to stay asleep. Oliver’s arm tightens around my middle, pulling me even harder against him as if he sensed I’m waking. I relax against him, feeling his warmth all over my back through his dress shirt that I’m wearing. _I could get used to this_. He nuzzles his nose into my hair, and I feel myself slipping back into sleep.

****

I groan, being forcefully pulled from sleep by the harsh beeping of my cell’s alarm. Oliver groans, withdraws his arm from around me, and I feel the slight dip of the mattress as he rolls onto his back – the lack of his body heat instantly leaving me cold, even with the covers over me. I glance over my shoulder, watching through half closed lids as he slaps his right hand on my cell; the beeping stopping instantly. He rolls back onto his side, his arm draped over me, and plants a kiss on my cheek.

“Can’t we just stay here all day?” I mumble.

He chuckles. “Do you really want to do that?”

“Would I have even asked if I didn’t?”

“Much as I want to stay curled up with you, there’s a world out there that needs us to help it.”

I groan. “Oh, yes. This city’s too dependent on the Arrow.”

“But isn’t that good for us?” His arm tightens around me, pulling me more against him. “We get to do what brought us together.”

I hum contentedly, pushing myself further into him as I close my eyes. He runs a line of kisses over my forehead. “Stay here with me,” I whisper.

He rests his forehead against mine. “Always,” he whispers back.

It takes us another hour before we can pull ourselves away from each other and get dressed. Hand-in-hand we make our way downstairs and it’s only when we’re walking down the last set into the foyer that I remember that Moira will be here. I freeze halfway down and Oliver turns to look at me.

“Hey,” he softly says, gently rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “You okay?”

I nod slowly. “Yes, it’s just…” I sigh. “Your…Moira…”

Oliver returns to the step below me, bringing his face level with mine. “Since we’re already running late, I was thinking we could just sneak out the front door and get something to eat on the way to the office,” he says. “That way we can both avoid talking to her.”

“I don’t want to be what stops you from —”

“You’re not in the way, Felicity. I’m glad that you were honest with me…that you didn’t hide what you knew from me. She lied to Thea and me…it’s not your fault that I don’t want to talk to her.”

I lean my forehead against his, closing my eyes.

“I would _never_ blame you for what my mother has done,” he whispers.

He kisses me, one hand coming to rest on my hip. I finally relax, reciprocating the kiss, but I sense we’re not alone anymore, so I pull back. I look to my left, to find Moira and Thea standing near the foot of the other staircase, the latter two steps behind the bewildered matriarch.

“Well,” Moira says. “I see that I misunderstood your relationship with your E.A., Oliver.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought,” Oliver replies, barely hiding his anger despite the fact that Thea’s present. “After all, you proved to me that I barely know you at all.”

Thea’s confused and even though I know she’s better off not knowing the truth, I can’t help but feel sorry for her being kept in the dark. Moira seems to be hurt by her son’s words, though I know it’s a façade.

“How is Laurel? I haven’t seen her around for quite some time. I hope she’s doing well.”

Oliver clenches his jaw, his hand tightening around mine, the tell-tale signs he’s fully aware of Moira’s attempt to get him back. “She’s fine, as far as I know. We don’t really talk that much anymore.”

“Oh? Why? She’s such a lovely young woman.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, letting out a huff that only I notice. “A lot of things are happening in our lives and we don’t get much time to talk anymore. Sometimes this happens, Mom. If you’re that interested in how she is, I’m sure she’d be happy to see you and tell you herself.”

Moira raises an eyebrow. I expect her to respond, but I watch as her eyes drift to Thea before returning to Oliver and giving him a slight nod. “Of course,” she replies. “Now…excuse me. I need to go collect something from my room.” She turns to Thea, giving her daughter’s hand a squeeze before ascending the stairs on their side of the foyer. Oliver and I watch her. Oliver doesn’t move an inch until she’s out of sight.

We step off the stairs and head to the front door in silence. We’re halfway there when Thea speaks up.

“What was that about, Ollie?”

We stop, both turning to look at her – she’s standing by the stairs Moira went up, arms folded tight over her chest.

“Nothing for you to worry about, Speedy,” Oliver replies, smiling slightly.

“Really?” She crosses to us, arms still crossed. “Because to me that was quite a cold conversation.”

Oliver places his hand on her shoulder. “You know us, Speedy. We have our moments when we don’t get along. That’s all it is.”

“And the thing with you not speaking to Laurel?”

“We’re…” He presses his lips into a thin line. “I’m giving her the space she needs in order to get her life back on track.”

Thea frowns. “Everything okay with her?”

He nods. “She hasn’t been coping very well since Tommy died.” He’s quiet for a moment, lost in thought about his friend who died in front of him. “Me being around her isn’t helping. Things always seem to go badly when I’m around her. So, I’m staying away for a while, giving her the chance to deal with her emotions without me complicating things.

“Seriously, Thea. It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh, so I just have to put up with you and Mom treating each other like sworn enemies without knowing _why_ you’re acting like that?”

Oliver smiles, tapping her nose with a finger. “ _Exactly_.”

“Urgh!” She exclaims, waving her hands around. “My family is _unbelievable_!”

Oliver leans in slightly and whispers, “I love you, too.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just…get out of here.”

We head for the door, I wave bye to Thea.

“Don’t destroy my club, Speedy!” Oliver says without looking back towards her.

“Maybe I will just to spite you!” She replies as we step out the door.

****

The day seems to drag on and on, to the point where I’m wishing we’d stayed in bed. I watch Oliver pace back and forth, his jacket off and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, shoulders tense as he talks via the speaker on a phone call. Ten more minutes, it’s all over for the day, and then we can go to the foundry. Just need nothing to go sideways for ten minutes. I look at the elevator, worried that Ms Rochev will appear. I stare at it for what feels like an eternity but she doesn’t appear. _Good. She’s done enough damage lately._

I turn my gaze to Oliver, now standing with his hands on his desk, and note how drained he looks. He’ll want to train as soon as we get to the foundry. He always does when he looks like this. I continue with my task, organizing documents for tomorrow, my thoughts drifting to what’s waiting for us at the foundry. We’d planned on dropping by there this morning before work to check on the analysis, but we’d run out of time. Therefore, we had no idea what it had determined and no idea if we were dealing with the same bomber as the one who had nearly killed us. Mysteries like that plague his mind…and mine.

“Is he free?”

I look in the direction of the voice, finding Laurel standing halfway to Oliver’s office door. “Well, hello to you too, Laurel.”

She forces a smile, she’s always been dismissive of me. “So, is he?”

“No, I’m sorry, he isn’t.”

She looks in his direction. “He doesn’t look busy.”

“He’s on a phone call,” I reply. She opens her mouth to respond, but I quickly add, “It’s on speaker.”

“Well…” she flashes that fake smile. “I’ll wait for him to finish. I’ve got the time.”

“He doesn’t have time for you, Laurel,” I reply, picking up several documents I’d planned on leaving on my desk for the morning, but I want an excuse to head in to Oliver.

“ _Make time_ ,” she rather aggressively says.

I stand as I look at her. “Like I said, he’s busy. You haven’t made an appointment, and since you’re not his girlfriend, you can’t just stroll in here and demand to see him when he’s busy.”

She fakes a laugh as I head towards his door, holding the documents against me. “ _Excuse me_?” She asks. “What is that meant to imply?”

I stop at the door, sharply spinning around to face her. “It means I _really_ don’t have time for you, Laurel. Neither does Oliver,” I reply, putting on my best smile. “It might come as a shock to you, but from now on, Oliver isn’t going to be dropping everything just because you want to talk to him.”

“Well, look at you! Standing up for yourself.”

“Goodbye, Miss Lance. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

She gapes and I smile as I push the door open with my back. I walk confidently into Oliver’s office, smirking in satisfaction. Oliver looks from me to Laurel. When he looks back at me, he frowns. He takes the call off the speaker, and says “I’ll get back to you on that.” He then hangs up and looks at me. “Why does Laurel look so shocked?”

I look over my shoulder at her, still standing where I’d left her. “I told her you’re too busy to talk.” I look at him, finding his eyebrow raised. “Okay, there was more said. Nothing for you to worry about. She was trying to push me into letting her in, but…I pushed back.”

He smirks. “Some day I want to witness you giving it back to her,” he replies. “Sounds like it’d be something worth witnessing.”

I nod. “I’ll remember to set up a hidden cam for you.”

He looks at me, trying to decide whether I’m joking or being serious.

“How did the meeting go?”

“Huh? Oh, you know…the same stressful dramas as per usual when I talk to the Russians.” He notices the pile in my hands. “Did you…?” He gestures to the papers.

“Oh, no. These can wait for the morning,” I reply. “I just wanted to have an excuse to get in here…away from her.”

He smirks as he nods. “Was she really that bad?”

“Hmmm, let’s see…no hello. Wouldn’t take ‘no, he’s busy’ for an answer. Acted like I should bend over backwards to do her bidding.”

“No, because that’s what you do for _me_.”

I bow my head to hide the blush rising to my cheeks. “Oliver.”

“You opened yourself up to that one, Felicity. I just…”

“Took advantage of me?”

He smirks and I know what he’s thinking. I raise a hand. “Don’t even answer that.”

He chuckles.

“That’s all we have scheduled for today…at least for your day job.”

“Should I talk with Laurel then?”

I step around to his side of the desk, placing the documents right in the centre of his desk away from everything else, as I reply, “Do you _really_ want to deal with whatever small crisis-of-the-week she’s here to whine about? Remember you don’t have a blind spot for her anymore.”

“No, I want to see you two go at it again.”

I pivot quickly to face him, finding him standing a lot closer than he usually does when we’re working here, and tilt my head as I purse my lips. He just smiles down at me.

“I’m going to walk out there and collect my things. You’re going to get ready to go, then join me and we’re going to tell Laurel that you’re on your way to a meeting and you’re already running late.”

He leans slightly closer. “I like this side of you.”

“ _What_?”

“This…you being all bossy.” He grins. “I like it.”

I turn and head for the door. “Yes, well…I want to get out of here so we can continue our nightly activities.”

“Which one are you referring to?”

I stop and slowly turn around to face him. I wait until my back is to my office, fully aware Laurel’s still there, before I let my jaw drop. He smirks, giving a slight shrug.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Sure, he _sounds_ innocent…

I roll my eyes, turning back to the door. “Get ready to go,” I reply without looking back.

I push open the door, barely stepping out before Laurel’s focusing on me.

“Can I see him _now_?” She asks as I stride past her for my desk.

“No.” I don’t even look at her.

She scoffs. “ _Excuse me_?”

I turn sharply around. “I said _no_. Oliver is late for a meeting.”

“So I’ll talk to him on the ride down to his car,” she replies as I pull on my jacket.

“Still no, Laurel.”

“You can’t stop me from talking to my friend.”

I look up, finding she’s crossed her arms. “Do it when he’s not busy working. I thought you’d understand. In fact, I thought you’d have a lot of work yourself, considering you have such a prominent job title now.”

She begins to reply, but stops when Oliver – now wearing his full suit – exits his office, and she turns to face him. I quickly collect my handbag and tablet before crossing to him, intentionally standing between them.

“Oliver. A word?”

“Not now, Laurel.”

“What, you can’t even spare me a moment?”

“Not when I’m running late,” he says, heading for the elevator with me a few steps behind.

“I’ll join you in the elevator,” she says as he hits the elevator’s down button a little too forcefully. “We can talk on the way down, just like I told your E.A a moment ago.” _Urgh!_ I can even _hear_ her fake smile…

“Sorry, but Felicity and I need to prep for our meeting.”

“Do it in the car.”

He spins around to face her and I see his mask drop – he’s very angry at her, as tired of her as I am. “For God’s _sake_ , Laurel!” He snaps. “ _When_ will you take ‘no’ for an _answer_?” His hands curl into fists at his side. “I _don’t_ have _time_ for you to be doing this!”

The door of the elevator opens. He makes no move towards it. “Oliver?” I ask.

“Get in, Felicity.” He says, eyes still on Laurel. “Hold the doors. I’ll be in in a minute.”

I step in, instantly reaching for the ‘door open’ button as I turn around to watch them. He steps closer to her and they talk, but I’m too far away to hear a word. Minutes later, he turns around as he takes a step back from her and enters the elevator with no emotion showing on his face. As soon as he’s inside, I quickly swap my hand to the ‘door close’ button – not that it matters, since Laurel makes no move to join us. Instead, she just smiles at us as the doors close.

****

“I know, Oliver,” she whispers. “About what you do…about who you _are_.”

“Laurel…I’m your friend, CEO of my family’s company—”

She laughs. “You think I don’t know the truth? About what you’ve been doing in secret _all this time_?” She doesn’t let me respond. “I’m not the only one who knows exactly how you spend your nights, Oliver. As much as I hate her, I wouldn’t want your E.A getting hurt.”

“She won’t.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Can you _really_ guarantee her safety?”

“What’s your point, Laurel?”

“Watch your back, Oliver.” Her eyes dart over my shoulder towards Felicity. “And hers.” She looks back to me. “You have no idea when she won’t be around.”

“She’s…she’s _not_ _going anywhere_.”

“No, not of her own free will.”

I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“In time…you’ll know.”

I press my lips together tightly, losing patience with her. Without a word, I turn around and step into the elevator, keeping my emotions out of my expression as I can feel Felicity’s eyes on me. The doors are already starting to slide shut when I turn around to face her, but they’re still open long enough for me to see Laurel’s smile. She’s hiding something and that worries me.

_“I know, Oliver. About what you do…about who you are.”_

“Everything okay?”

Her voice pulls me from my thoughts. I look at her, finding she’s moved to stand right beside me, almost in front of me. There’s no missing it – she’s worried. Not trusting my voice, I nod.

“You sure?”

I sigh – there she goes again, reading me better than anyone else. I like that about her. I look at the floor as I shake my head.

_“I’m not the only one who knows exactly how you spend your nights, Oliver.”_

The elevator comes to a halt, but there’s no ding to indicate it’s at the ground floor. She must have stopped it.

She places her hand on my arm. “Talk to me.”

I look up, focusing on her eyes. “She’s hiding something from me.”

She frowns. “Laurel?”

I nod. “She…she sounded like she was trying to warn me about something. But…at the same time, it sounded like she’s just… _jealous_.”

“Jealous?”

“Of us…at least that’s what I _hope_ she meant.” I glance around the elevator. “She said she knows how I spend my nights and there’s a part of me that wonders if she meant the Arrow…”

She slowly nods. “No wonder you’re shaken.”

I look her in the eyes, barely keeping the tears back. “She said…” I suck in a breath, hold, and let it out in a shaky exhale. “She said you’d be gone soon.”

“Hey,” she whispers, cupping my left cheek. “I’m not leaving.”

I close my eyes and push into her soft touch. “I told her that.”

“Look at me,” she whispers.

I open my eyes, focusing on hers.

“You are not going to lose me.”

I lean forward bringing my forehead against hers, and whisper, “I’m _not_ going to lose you.”

In the quiet of that moment, when everything seems so sure, Laurel’s words echo in my head –

_“You have no idea when she won’t be around.”_

****

The foundry seems so quiet when they’re not here. Just the _tap tap tap_ as I type, working away to find the lead that we need in order to bring the bomber to justice. Oliver decided that while I’m going through all this information, he and the others may as well head out and do a training session ‘in the field’. Two hours ago, that seemed like a good idea. That is, until I realized how quiet it is in here without them. Maybe I’m too used to doing this while listening to the steady rhythm of Oliver – sometimes the others too – training. Regardless, it’s too silent in here. Right now, the foundry feels so much larger than it really is.

The analysis was done when Oliver and I arrived at the foundry and it only served to confirm our fears – it’s the same bomber. Since then I’ve been trying to eliminate all of the false leads like the fact he used a dead man’s identity, in the hope I’ll find him. I think I may have just found our lead. I smile.

“You can try to cover your tracks, but nothing can stop me from finding the truth,” I mutter.

A house close to the outskirts of the city, supposedly owned by Fred Pickering. It’s not often that a two-year-old ghost buys a house. It has to be our guy – Pickering has no family here anymore. I reach for my cell, ready to call Oliver and let him know, but pause as my hand hovers over it. I turn my attention back to my computers and in minutes I’ve hacked into a satellite to see if there’s any heat signatures inside the house. It’s empty. Why should I interrupt their training session to go do something I can do myself? All that needs to be done is to check the place out – it might turn out to be a dead end, anyway…

Before I can give it a second thought, I send the information to my tablet, grab my things and head out.

****

“Again!”

“But—”

He growls and steps well into my personal space, face hidden in the shadow caused by his hood. I don’t need to see it to know he’s glaring down at me. No wonder crooks are intimidated by him…

“Doing it again,” I nervously say, before stepping back.

He nods. We’ve been doing this for over two hours now, the same repetitive action – Dig, Sara and Oliver attack, I defend. You’d think we’d change things up by now, but no, Oliver wants to do it over and over. Oliver steps over to Sara and Dig, and the three talk quietly before heading to their designated spots spread around the rooftop we’re standing on.

Sara’s usually the first to attack but, sometimes to mix it up, Dig comes first. In all the time we’ve spent tonight doing this, Oliver has never led the attack. Except for now. He comes from behind me, a nice change from the front like he’s done all night, his bow swinging as he tries to hit me – but I hear him coming and block him easily. He swings it again, aiming to land a blow to my left side, and I reach to block it – only to have him quickly change direction and his bow makes contact hard on my right thigh. I groan, hopping to my left. The effects of the Mirakuru aren’t as powerful as they were before I took the cure – much as the fast healing has faded, the super strength still lingers.

“What happened to pulling punches?”

“Was that a punch?” He gruffly replies.

“Punches, blows, whacks…anything that results in pain.”

“It’s a training session, Roy. If you can’t take it now, what use are you out in the field?”

“Normally I’m not going up against an asshole with a bow.”

Oliver takes a step towards me, but stops when Sara speaks. “But you’ll be against weapons far more damaging than Oliver’s bow.”

Oliver nods. “She’s right.”

“Of course she is. It’s like talking to the wonder twins with you two…”

Sara smiles. “You just need to practice more. Don’t let him get the better of you.”

“How can I when he’s more than happy to cause me as much pain as possible! I bet it’s all payback for being with Thea, isn’t it?”

“Not everything is about you and my sister.”

“No, of course not.”

Oliver pushes his hood back and scowls. “What is your problem, Roy? For months you’ve been trying to be a part of this, and then when I finally agree to it, what do you do? Give me attitude the whole damn time!”

“Because—”

“Because _WHAT?_ ” His voice booms on the last word.

“I didn’t think it’d be like _this!_ ” I shout back. “Endless hours of you beating the _shit_ out of me, acting like you’re better than me. Just because you come from some rich family and got stranded on an island for a few years _doesn’t_ make you any better than me. Believe me, your five years of hell means _nothing_ compared to my _entire life!_ ”

He doesn’t speak and just stands there looking at me. I don’t know if he’s waiting for me to continue or if he’s sizing me up to take me down.

“You know what? If this is how you’re going to treat me, then I’m out.” I turn around, take a couple of steps and then turn back. “For the first time, I thought maybe I’d found someone like me. Someone who’s had it rough, who’s been through hell and is still living. Someone who could really give my life meaning – and for a while…you did.” I shake my head. “But now? Now you’re just being the jerk you were on the TV before you were dead for five years.”

I walk away. I expect him to chase me and yell, or shoot me in the leg like the last time I stood up to him. He does neither.

****

The lights are out, as expected, I note as I carefully make my way around to the back of the house. Not only am I checking that the place is as empty as it seems (it has been half an hour since I checked the heat signatures inside and that’s long enough for someone to have returned), but I also want to enter the house from the back – the front door can be seen from the street, and it’s not a good idea to risk being seen breaking into a house. Not a very good move from a vigilante’s partner.

I reach the back door, finding the back of the house as unoccupied as the rest of the house. All of the lights are turned off, including the outside ones – maybe this place isn’t being used. I try the door handle, despite knowing that it’ll be locked, and I’ll need to get out my lock picking tools. I freeze when the door opens inwards. _Who leaves a place unlocked when they’re not here???_

I push the door open wider, slowly scanning the room with my flashlight, as I stand in the doorway. It’s a large kitchen-living room – fully furnished, much to my surprise. Definitely being lived in – but that doesn’t explain the lack of outdoor lights. Surely they’d have security lights?

I slowly walk in, still on edge, even though it’s clear that the house is empty. _Always be aware of your surroundings_ – I don’t know how many times Oliver and Dig have told me that. _Never let your guard down._ Maybe this was a bad idea coming on my own. Maybe I should call Oliver…No! You can do this, Felicity! Look around, see if there’s any evidence that can lead us to the bomber, take photos of anything I find, and then get the hell out of here. As I cross to the kitchen to start searching there, I think about what Oliver will say when I tell him I came here on my own. He’ll be angry that I didn’t call, but why should I disrupt his training session just to come do this?

****

I lead Dig and Sara down the stairs into the foundry as I push my hood back. I’m halfway across to her desk before it hits me that she’s not here. She said she’d be here when we got back. I frown. “How long were we gone?”

Dig checks his watch. “Just coming up to three hours now.”

I clench my jaw. “Why isn’t she here?”

“Maybe she’s gone to get something to eat?”

“Or to go to the little IT genius’ room?” Sara adds.

“You shouldn’t worry,” Dig says.

“I’m allowed to worry over her safety, Diggle.” I grab my cell and call her number. I listen to it ring over and over, wondering when she’ll answer, but it goes to voicemail. “Felicity, just checking where you are. We’re back at the foundry. Call me when you get this.”

****

I feel my cell vibrating in my jacket pocket – now’s not the time to be answering calls. Whoever it is, I’ll call them back. The kitchen-living room held no leads, so I’ve moved to the study halfway between the front and back of the ground floor. The large oak desk is covered in books and papers, so I’m sifting through it all in the hope there’ll be something we can use to find the bomber. I jump and gasp in fright when a loud crash echoes through the large house from another room. What could it be? Is there someone here? I hold my torch between my teeth and snap photos of the books and papers on the desk (I really wish the electricity was on…) with my cell. I shove my cell back into my jacket pocket as I turn and head for the door – if someone is here, I’m not sticking around to find out. I step out into the hallway, looking left and right but finding no one there. I’m closer to the front door, so I head there, walking quickly. My fingers brush the door handle, but there’s a sharp pain at the back of my head. The world starts to spin and I fall to the ground. In the dim light of my small torch, I see the outline of someone standing over me…and then everything goes black.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed that. I've been really looking forward to throwing in that twist at the end. One more chapter to go! Any comments are much appreciated! Hopefully you won't have to wait quite so long for the next chapter!


	4. Be Strong, The Truth Will Be Uncovered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six days have passed, and Oliver is barely coping without Felicity. Without any substantial leads to go on, hope is fading fast. That is, until someone Oliver knows is revealed to be involved in it all...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thanks to my lovely Kate for being my wonderful proofreader! :)
> 
> Yay! Got it up in less than a month since the previous chapter! Barely, but... YAY! :D Better yet, Chapter 5 is coming along really well! Hopefully it'll be up in the next few weeks!
> 
> And for the long-time readers, you'll notice I've changed the number of Chapters to 6 -- that's due to my decision to split this chapter into two (the end scene was too dramatic to bury in the middle of a chapter!).
> 
> Enjoy!

“It’s been six days!” I yell. “ _SIX DAYS!_ ”

“I know Mr. Queen,” Pike replies, trying to stay calm.

“Are the police even looking for her?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“We are putting all our available resources into finding Ms. Smoak.”

I’m pacing around his office, while he stands unmoving behind his desk. I hadn’t planned on being as loud as I am, but the pressure of not having Felicity around is getting to me. “So why haven’t you found her yet?”

Pike opens his mouth to reply, interrupted by the three sharp raps on his door. Pike sighs, relaxing a little, relieved no doubt by the interruption. “Come in.”

The door opens and Detective Lance steps into the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but everyone can hear Mr. Queen. I just wanted to make sure everything is alright.”

“Mr. Queen wants to know how our search for Ms. Smoak is going,” Pike replies. “You may as well take over. You are part of the taskforce investigating it.”

I look at Lance, surprised. As far as I knew, he wasn’t. “You are?”

Lance gives a short nod. “Since yesterday, officially.”

“Even more reason for you to be talking to him, Mr. Queen,” Pike says. “Detective Lance is more involved in the case than I am. He’ll be able to provide you with more up-to-date information.”

“If you follow me, Mr. Queen, we can continue this at my desk,” Lance says.

I nod at Lance before shaking Pike’s hand. “Thank you.”

“We’re doing our best to find her.”

I nod again, but deep down I know that if it was true, she’d be home, in my arms as we lie in bed. I cross to Lance and follow him over to his desk. He pulls up a spare chair, placing it beside his desk, and we both sit. We’re out in the bullpen – I suspect Pike handed me off to Lance thinking I’d be less loud out here. All I care about is the fact that this isn’t as private a setting as I’d like this to take place in, and that I’m even here in the first place. She shouldn’t be missing.

“What would you like to know?”

“Why are you only just joining the case now?”

Lance smiles a little. “I tried to the second I heard six days ago that she was missing,” he replies, “but I’ve been finishing several other cases. Pike denied my requests to be a part of the task force until yesterday. I’m sorry, I know she means a lot to you…but it was out of my hands.”

Despite not getting along very well, Lance and I have an understanding about Felicity. I’m the closest thing she has to family in this city, and Lance doesn’t question my interest when something like this comes up.

“Tell me everything you know. What’s going on?”

“Well, we were able to trace where she was before she…” he hesitates, carefully choosing his words, “disappeared. Thanks to you, we were actually able to trace her cell. You called it, but there’s no record of her answering.”

I nod. “I know.”

“She was at a house.”

I know all of this already – it’s nothing I haven’t been able to find out myself. I fake surprise. “A house?”

He nods. “You wouldn’t happen to know why she was at a house owned by…” he checks his notes, “a Fred Pickering?”

The name’s all too familiar, but I shrug. There’s no way I’m letting on that I already know far more than I should. “No, sorry.”

He grunts. “Long shot,” he mutters.

“What did you find there?”

“Not a lot. The place was fully furnished, seemed like someone had been living there…but there were a few questionable things.”

“Oh?”

“Firstly, there were no fingerprints left _anywhere_ in the house, except for Ms Smoak’s. It was as if whoever lives there touches _nothing_.”

“What was the second thing?”

 

“There’s the troubling issue of the fact that the house was bought two years after Mr. Pickering died.”

My stomach back-flips – that’s one of the things Dig and I had discovered on the foundry computers. The final piece of information she’d found. Or the final one we could find – it’s becoming increasingly clear that she may have come face-to-face with our bomber.

“Could it have been bought before he died, with a long settlement?”

“Two years?” Lance raises his eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of one lasting that long.”

“So could it be a family member, using his name?”

He frowns. “You have a lot of questions; things a victim’s—”

“ _Don’t_ call her _that_.”

“—family wouldn’t be asking.”

“Good thing I’m not her family then.” I smile.

“Family isn’t always blood or marriage, Oliver.”

“What else do you know?”

“They’re trying to find out who bought the house but…” He sighs.

I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. “But what?”

“Every day that we don’t have a lead, we lose resources,” he says. “We’re pushing what we can, but we don’t have much room to give. Our resources are spread over a lot of cases…and because we’re not as successful, what little we do have is slowly being taken from us.”

“So she’s…so you’re saying that the SCPD are giving up on her?” My eyes sting as tears start.

He sighs as he runs his hand over his face. “It’s not my decision, Oliver.”

“At least explain why her life is considered less important than the SCPD’s resources.”

“The statistics of finding her alive after forty-eight hours are so low, it’s working against us.”

“She’s not…” I leap to my feet, my chair falling over, as I shout, “She’s _not_ _just_ a _statistic_!”

The detectives, officers and a few criminals around us fall silent. Lance stands as he holds his hands out to try and calm me.

“Just…calm down.”

“Not when I’ve found out that the SCPD, the only ones who even have a _chance_ of finding her, are willing to give up on her because of stretched resources and the fact that she’s been missing for more than _forty-eight hours!_ ”

“I know. I care about her as much as you do, but I can’t…I’ve tried to get Pike to allow the case more resources. So far, it’s gotten me nowhere.”

I suppress tears and rub my right forefinger and thumb together.

“This might not be what you want to hear right now, but…” he sighs, “there’s someone else who might be able to help find her.”

I already know who – the Arrow – but I feign confusion. “Who?”

Lance looks around, checking where everyone else is, and then quietly says, “The Arrow.”

I frown. “I thought the SCPD hated him.”

“He’s not too bad, once you get to know him. Once you get to see the good that he does,” he says. “I can get in contact with him if you’d like…see if he knows anything that can help.”

“Why would he know?”

“Ms Smoak is working with him.” He frowns. “I thought you’d know that about your E.A.”

I shake my head. “Nope.”

He nods. “I guess we don’t always know everything about the people in our life.”

I stare at him for a moment. “Let me know if you find another lead.” I walk away before he can reply.

****

**6 Days Earlier**

“You shouldn’t worry,” Dig says.

“I’m allowed to worry over her safety, Diggle.” I grab my cell and call her number. I listen to it ring over and over, wondering when she’ll answer, but it goes to voicemail. “Felicity, just checking where you are. We’re back at the foundry. Call me when you get this.”

 

I hang up, sighing – it’s not often that she doesn’t answer. Dig moves the mouse and the computer screens come back on. He looks at the information on the screen and frowns.

“You should see this,” he says.

I cross to him and read the information; it’s documents about a house on the outskirts of the city… I groan when I see the owner’s name: Fred Pickering.

“Isn’t that…” Sara says.

“The name the bomber’s using…yes,” Dig replies.

My stomach back-flips – _could she have gone there?_ “Can we trace her cell? Find out where she is?”

Dig opens the program to trace her cell. I rub my fingers on my right hand together, picturing the very worst that could’ve happened to her in the three hours we’ve been gone. There’s a light touch of a hand on my right arm – I turn towards them, hoping to find Felicity standing there, smiling at me. My heart sinks when I see Sara.

“She’s going to be okay,” she says.

I take a big breath in and slowly let it out. “I hope so.”

The computers beep and I turn my attention back to them. “Dig?”

He sighs, his head dropping and shoulders slumping.

I cross to him. “ _Dig_?”

He turns to look at me. “It…” he sighs, “it can’t lock onto her number.”

I stare blankly, stomach tying itself in knots as my worst fear crashes to reality _. I shouldn’t have left her here alone._

“Ollie,” Sara’s stepping closer, arm stretched out to touch me.

I bat her away and turn to get my bow. “Send the house’s address to me.”

“Oliver, I don’t—”

“Just _do it_!” I snap, turning on my heel to face them. They both look so shocked. I sigh. “I’m sorry…It’s just…” I sigh again. “She shouldn’t have gone on her own.”

I walk out.

****

**Present**

I walk down the stairs, expecting to find Dig and Sara, but only finding him. This place feels so foreign without my bubbly girl. I miss seeing her sitting in her chair, busy at her computer, her blonde ponytail swishing when she spins around to face me. It hurts just to be here when she’s missing. “How’s it going?”

Dig glances around at me and then looks at the computer. “Nowhere near where it should be.”

“Where’s Sara?”

“She had something personal to do.”

I step closer. “So…fill me in.”

He sighs. “Not much to say. Without any way of tracking her…”

I nod. “No way of finding her.” I pace, thinking everything through. “Have you been able to find more about whoever is pretending to be Pickering?”

He turns around to face me and sits down on the edge of the desk, arms folded across his chest. “Whoever he is, he’s _really_ good at hiding.”

“We’ll find him.”

“Without Felicity?”

My chest tightens, the pain of her not being here intensifying. Much as I understand what he means, it still hurts. It’s surprising how much the team relies on her for and we don’t notice exactly how much until she’s not here. The image of never getting her back crosses my mind. I stop pacing and I close my eyes to push it away. “We’ll have to.” I then add, in a whisper, “For her.”

“How did it go with Pike?”

I slowly look at him. “He had no idea what’s going on.”

“That bad, huh?”

I shrug and continue to pace. “It was until Detective Lance took over.”

Dig raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

I nod, still pacing. “I was…being loud…and Lance wanted to check that everything was alright. Pike took advantage of it and decided to hand me off.”

“How did that go?”

I stop and look at him. “They’ve got as much on this as we do.” I sigh. “Which just…” I run my hands over my face. “It doesn’t help at all.”

“We’ve always caught the guy. This won’t be any different.”

“But, what if it is? What if it’s the _one_ time that things don’t go the way we want? From the start, this mission has gone _wrong_! Felicity and I nearly _died_ because of this ghost! And _now_? Now she’s missing and there’s _nothing_ that helps us bring her _home_!”

“It won’t be.”

“How do you know for _sure_?”

“Because, just like Felicity always has, I have faith in you.”

I suppress tears, my jaw trembling slightly. “What if that’s…” I let out a shaky sigh. “What if that’s not enough?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but is cut off by a cell ringing. He picks it up off the desk and my heart sinks; it’s the Arrow cell.

“It’s Detective Lance,” he says, holding it out to me.

“He’s probably seeking our help in the case. He suggested it to me when I was there,” I reply, walking over to him. I take the cell and hesitate as my thumb hovers over the answer button – _should I even bother answering?_ It’s not like I know anything beyond what he knows. I hit the button, keeping silent as I hold it up to my ear.

“You took your time answering,” Lance says, perfectly timed so I hear all of it.

“What do you want, Detective?” I’m glad there’s a voice distorter built into it so he can’t tell I’m angry.

“You probably already know, but a mutual friend of ours is missing. Ms Smoak—”

“She’s been missing for six days, Detective. Why have you waited so long to call?”

“I’ve only been on the case since yesterday. We’re not having much luck finding her and things aren’t great for the team investigating – resources are being cut from us to help other cases and it’s not helping to turn the case around. I was hoping you’d be able to help.”

“If I was able to help, she wouldn’t be still missing.”

He sighs. “Look, I want her back as much as you do.” _Not even close, Detective._ “Can we just meet somewhere and…and talk about it? I’m not in the best place to discuss it right now.”

I sigh, there’s no way of avoiding this. “Usual rooftop in one hour.”

****

**6 Days Earlier**

With my bow in one hand, and an arrow ready in the other, I kick open the front door to the Pickering house, drawing the arrow as I step over the threshold. I check the entrances to the rooms both left and right, aim up the stairs to the second floor and down the hallway extending to the back of the house. No signs of life. I lower my bow, slowly undrawing the arrow as I do, and that’s when it catches my eye – the little glint of light off a metal surface on the floor in the dim light. I cautiously cross to it and crouch down – it’s a cell. I pick it up, holding it close so I can see it better, and my heart sinks when I recognize it as Felicity’s. The screen’s busted, like someone stood on it to crush it. I can already hear Felicity complaining. I’ll buy her a replacement.

I tuck it into my jacket for safe-keeping and I stand. The house is rather large; she may still be here. I search every room with my bow loaded, kicking open any doors that stand in my way, but there’s no one here. I reach the final room, tucked away at the very back of the house’s upper level, and kick the door open. I enter, arrow drawn in my bow, hoping to find another sign from Felicity. There’s no one inside. It’s completely empty. With a sigh, I lean my back against the wall. Before I know it, I’m sliding down to sit on the floor, legs tucked up almost to my chest, and I hang my head.

_Where are you, Felicity?_

****

**Present**

“Detective.”

Lance spins around, startled. “Geez, you’re stealthy.”

“Wouldn’t get away from the SCPD if I wasn’t.”

He smirks. “Guess not.”

“You wanted us to talk face-to-face. Here we are. So, talk.”

“We’ve been trying to determine who—”

“Stole Fred Pickering’s identity and bought the house where Felicity went missing.”

He’s surprised. “How—”

“We always monitor the SCPD. I know everything that you know.”

“Wow. You know, the SCPD could really use someone like Felicity.”

“She’s one of a kind, Detective.”

“Don’t I know it,” he mutters.

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

“I thought you may have found something that could help us. Usually when we’re chasing the same person, you manage to find out who they are first.”

I drop my head. “That’s all Felicity.”

“Oh,” he slowly says.

“I know as much as you do.” I look at him. “I’m sorry.”

He nods. “Me, too.” He shifts uncomfortably. “I know she means a lot to you.”

“She means the world to me.” My eyes sting from the tears I’m holding back. “I don’t think I could do this…what I do…without her.”

He nods. “The city’s a lot safer with you and Ms Smoak watching over it.”

****

“Yo, Abercrombie!” Sin calls from across the street.

I shove my hands deeper into my hoodie’s pockets and continue to walk.

“Hey, ROY!”

I quicken my pace – I don’t want to talk to her. To _anyone_.

“ROY! Are you deaf?” She’s getting closer. “Hold up!”

She grabs my arm and gives it a pull, trying to get me to stop, but I keep going.

“What the _hell_?” She asks, keeping pace with me. “Just _stop!_ ”

I sigh, before glaring at her, as I stop. “You just _don’t_ give up, do you?”

“Yeah well, you’ve been pretty hard to find the last six days.”

“Maybe I didn’t _want_ to be found. Did you ever think of that?”

“What’s with the ‘tude?”

“I want to be left _alone_ ,” I reply, turning and continuing on my way.

“People are worried about you.” She’s following me.

I scoff. “They don’t need to be. I’m fine on my own.”

“Sara told me everything.” I’m walking so fast that she’s barely keeping up. “About you leaving…you not being the Arrow’s sidekick anymore.”

“He was being a jerk.”

“Like you are right now?”

I stop and turn to face her. She quickly halts, arms instinctively coming up between us to stop her from colliding with me.

“So?”

“You may be used to being on your own, Abercrombie, and that’s fine, but you’re not facing the world alone anymore. We’re friends. I care about you. Thea cares about you.”

“Yeah, well as you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” I turn and walk away. “You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

She doesn’t chase after me. Good; she’s finally listened to me.

“Do you know Felicity’s missing?”

I halt, keeping my back to her.

“I guessed you wouldn’t.” She walks closer. “She’s been missing for six days – the same amount of time since you quit helping them. Sara says they’re struggling to find her. They know it’s connected to that bomber they’ve been searching for, but…they can’t connect the dots.” She sighs. “They could use all the help they can get.”

I look over my shoulder at her. “Tell them I’m sorry, but I won’t be coming back. _Ever_. I meant everything I said to him that night.”

She stops beside me. “So you won’t even help them save her?”

I turn to face her. “No.”

“You know what? Grow _up_ , Abercrombie!” She says, extending her arms out sideways. “If that’s too hard for you, think about this: Felicity is _missing_. I don’t know her, but I can tell that you’re friends with her. Pull your head out of the sand, put whatever the hell this grudge you and the Arrow have going on aside, and help find her.”

“Not for me…or you…or the Arrow. Do it for _her_.”

****

She looks so beautiful asleep next to me. Her blonde hair is so golden, illuminated by the early morning sun that’s shining through the curtains. I cup her cheek and she contentedly hums as she turns into my touch, eyes still closed. I smile, leaning in, and brush my lips against hers. She fervently reciprocates, her hand sliding over my chest as my other hooks around her waist and pulls her closer. _Oh, how I’ve longed to hold her in my embrace all week!_ I roll us, so I’m lying on top of her, and nudge her legs apart with one knee. I want to make love to her. She spreads her legs but breaks our kiss. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkle as they lock with mine.

“Oliver,” she says, my name sounding like music coming from her.

“Felicity,” I whisper, gently rubbing her back. “I missed you _so much_.”

She smiles. “It truly has been a hectic week.”

“Try seven years.”

She grins. “In a way, it makes these calmer moments even more special.” She gazes at me, her fingers tracing a pattern on my left shoulder blade. “I cherish these times when it is just you and me.”

“Me, too,” I softly reply.

We smile at each other. I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. I don’t want her gone from my side ever again.

“I never got to properly thank you.”

“For what?”

“For what?” She laughs. “Don’t be silly! For rescuing me!”

I frown uncomprehendingly.

“From the bomber. I never gave up hope because I knew…I _knew_ that you would come for me, Oliver.”

“What?” My frown deepens. “I know this sounds crazy, but…I don’t remember…”

The sunlight intensifies, drowning her features in white light.

“Rescuing you,” I whisper.

She smiles. “You don’t remember rescuing me…because you didn’t.” She gestures around us. “This…this _isn’t real_.”

I frown. “W-what?”

She traces over my Bratva tattoo with her right hand. “This…all of this…it’s not real.”

My frown deepens. “You’re not making sense, baby.”

“ _I’m not here_ ,” she whispers.

“Yes, you are.”

She shakes her head, smiling, and a small laugh escapes her. “No, I’m not. I’m not here. You _never_ saved me.”

“No! No, you’re here! You’re here, Felicity.”

She cups my face with both her hands. “Shh, Oliver. Shh.” She gently rubs her right thumb back and forth over my cheekbone. “I’m not here…you didn’t save me…just like you didn’t save Tommy. I’m probably dead. The real me is dead.”

“No,” I shake my head, not wanting to believe it. “No.”

“Oliver,” she whispers.

“No.”

“Oliver,” she whispers.

“ _No!_ ”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” she whispers. She smiles. “It’s okay. I’m at peace.”

“ _No!_ ”

“I’m at peace.”

“ _NO!_ ” I shout.

She fades away, being replaced by somewhere familiar…I can’t figure out where.

“I love you,” she whispers.

The foundry’s ceiling comes into focus. I groan, scrubbing my eyes.

_It was all a dream._

****

I stare at the salmon ladder. _“I kept that…I like watching you do that.”_ I fight back tears. A week ago I planned on, over time, teaching her more fighting skills and how to use the salmon ladder. Now…I don’t want to give up hope, but…I may not get to ever do that with her. My chest tightens at the thought of everything I won’t get to do with her now that she’s gone.

I turn to my Wing Chun dummy and start hitting it, using nothing but my bare hands and arms, quickly building a fast rhythm and allowing the repetitive motion and pattern to keep the memories at bay that are just too painful to think about right now. I don’t know how much time passes before Dig arrives and stands in my line of sight. I stop, drop my arms to my side, and stare at him.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Oliver.”

“I’m _fine_.”

He frowns. “Have you been sleeping?” I begin to reply, but he continues. “The normal amount for you. I know you don’t sleep near as much as you should.”

“I’m good, Dig.”

“Just answer the question.”

I sigh. “No, I’m not sleeping well, okay? Why? Because Felicity’s _not here_ and I’m worried sick. I’ve been having nightmares about losing her for good, which is just _another_ reason for me not to sleep.”

“Oliver, you need to—”

“What I _need_ is to _find Felicity!_ ” I shout. “I am _not_ going to sleep well _until_ she’s _back!_ ”

“What if she doesn’t come back?”

“ _DON’T!_ ” I yell. I close my eyes, taking a deep breath in and slowly letting it out. I look at him, continuing in my normal voice, “Don’t go there, Diggle.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t want to.”

“So, why even mention it?”

“I want to make sure that you’re prepared for the worst case scenario.”

I walk over to him, stopping well into his personal space. “She’s coming home.”

“With all due respect, Oliver, the last time you lost someone you cared about deeply, you disappeared to Lian Yu without a word. It took both Felicity and me to find you. I’m concerned that history will repeat itself, and then what? Will you vanish like you did back then? If I do find you, will I be able to bring you back? After Tommy died, all I did was help get her to that island. We both know that she’s the only one who got you to come back. She’s always the one who pulls you back.”

“If she’s gone forever…would you _want_ to come back?”

****

I strum my fingers on my leg as I stare at the bottle of wine sitting on my coffee table in front of me. It’d be so easy to slip back into my old habits; open and drink it one glass at a time. I turn to my cell, pick it up and bring up the last received text:

_We’ve made it happen._

I put my cell down and reach for the wine bottle, my fingers barely touching the neck when there’s a knock at the door. I freeze, wondering if I should answer it.

“Laurel?” Sara calls out.

I stand, crossing to the door, “Coming!”

I open the door and she looks at me for a moment. She steps forward, pulling me into a hug. “Are you okay?”

“I could be better,” I reply, hugging her back. “I could also be a whole lot worse.”

We part and I gesture towards the lounge. She heads in there as I close the door. When I join her, she’s standing on the other side of the coffee table, eyes on the wine bottle.

“Have you—”

“No…but I’ve been considering it.”

She looks at me and frowns. “What’s happened?”

I tuck my right leg under me as I sit, drawing my left leg up to my chest. She settles on the other end of the couch, quietly watching me, waiting for me to speak. It takes me a long minute before I can. The tears fall as I do.

“I’ve done…I’ve done something terrible.”

****

Being at Queen Consolidated this week has been its own kind of purgatory. The whole place feels so clinical and dull without her. The first couple of days after she went missing, I couldn’t bear to be there. I’d gone there on Monday, two days after she was gone, in an attempt to keep up the normal routine, but the second I saw her desk and she wasn’t waiting with a big smile, I lost it. I wrecked my office, scaring my temporary EA, and Diggle and Mom had to come and intervene. Diggle took me home while Mom stayed to take care of the company. I didn’t even try to go Tuesday or Wednesday. Hell, I didn’t leave my bed at all on Tuesday. The last two days have been hard. I ensured all meetings take place in our board rooms, even if they were between myself and just one or two other people. Being in my office, surrounded by possessions that remind me of her, for long periods of time is too unbearable.

Now I’m here in my office on a Friday evening, almost an exact week since she went missing, signing important documents. My temporary EA, a pretty redhead, stands by the couches as she cautiously watches me. I look up at her from the documents on my desk. She looks absolutely terrified.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

She meekly smiles. “I…I’d believe you, if you hadn’t destroyed almost every piece of furniture in here at the start of the week.”

I lean back into my chair. “I’m sorry about that.”

“I understand why you did it, Mr. Queen,” she replies, nervously wringing her hands. The action makes me think of Felicity’s nervous babbles and hand gestures, and I force myself to look at her face to stop myself from breaking down. “They told me about what happened…to Ms Smoak. I’d heard a little on the news.” She sighs, “I know it’s none of my business, but…I know she was your friend.”

I stare out the window, slowly exhaling as I fight back tears. “She was more than that.”

“Well, I really…I really hope that the SCPD finds her.”

I slowly nod. “Same.”

“Or, maybe this’ll be one of those crimes that the vigilante…what is he called? The Arrow? Maybe he’ll find her.”

I look at her. She has no idea she’s talking to him right now; the man who is as unable to find her as the SCPD. Perhaps I’m not the hero that I think I am…

She picks up some of the documents, pulling me from my thoughts, and I notice she’s right beside me. I catch a whiff of her perfume, something completely different to the floral one Felicity always wears, and my chest tightens.

“If you finish these last couple, we can leave.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Sure.” I sit forward and sign the remaining documents.

****

Maybe Sin’s right. Maybe I should go and help them find Felicity. My problem isn’t with her – it’s never with her – it’s with _him_. Should I let that be the reason I turn my back on one of my friends? If I do go back, though, I’ll spend the entire time being bossed around by Mr. thinks-he-knows-all. I can’t stand that, but what if Felicity needs me to be there, helping the team out? I sigh. Perhaps I should just bite the bullet and go back, at least to help find Felicity. I scoff. As much as I don’t want to give up on Felicity, I just can’t stand being around him.

I turn out of the alley and that’s when I see her: Laurel, standing on the corner a few meters away, looking so out of place in the Glades. I step forward and open my mouth to call out to her, but before I can speak a man walks up from the opposite direction. He, too, looks out of place here. He’s definitely wearing a suit too expensive for anyone living in the Glades to afford. She’s too relaxed around him for him to be a stranger, but her shoulders are tense, as if she’s wary. I pull my hood up and sneak close enough to hear what they’re saying.

“What have you done?”

“Only what you wanted, Laurel.”

She tilts her head sideways slightly. “What?”

“You said you wanted her gone – from your life, from his – and that’s _exactly_ what we did.”

“So, you killed her?”

“Our first attempt failed…mainly due to him being there. He’s smarter than we thought. We had to lay out another trap.” He smiles. “She may be a computer genius, but she’s far too foolish.”

My stomach back-flips – he’s talking about Felicity! I pull out my cell and turn it to the video camera. I lean my back against the brick wall and pretend to be looking at something on my cell, but really I’m filming both of them. Luckily, neither has seen me… _yet_.

“You know, I expected that green-hooded pal of hers to tag along, just like he did when she walked into our last trap. Fortunately, she fell into this one alone.” He grins and places his hands on her arms. “Look a _little_ more happy, Laurel! She’s out of his life… _for good_.”

She looks shocked. “You…you _killed_ her?”

“Oh, don’t be like that.”

“No! I just…all I wanted was for you to _kidnap_ her! I just wanted her out of his life, so I could have Ollie back! She’s done nothing but pull him away from me. I did _not_ want you to _kill_ her!”

“What’s done is done, Laurel.”

“ _No!_ ”

“Why don’t you just go home, Laurel. He’s _all yours_ now.” He turns and walks off.

“Hey! Come back!” He keeps going, ignoring her. “I didn’t want you to kill her!”

He disappears around the corner. She lets out a strangled cry, her hand whipping up to cover her mouth. We both stand there. I’m still recording her as she shakes from the shock that’s just hit her. _She’s responsible for Felicity’s disappearance._

She lowers her hand, turning to leave, and that’s when our eyes meet. She stares at me. I gulp.

“Roy?”

_Murderer!_

She steps closer, arm outstretched in what I hope is an attempt to be friendly, but all I can think of is how she’s responsible for Felicity’s death. She touches my sleeve and I instantly jerk my arm out of her touch.

“Roy?”

I sprint to my right, leaving her behind.

“ROY!”

I don’t look back.

****

“Oliver.”

I sigh, stopping halfway up the stairs, and close my eyes. _Why now?_ All I want to do is go upstairs and try to sleep. I’ve already undone my tie and top button. I turn around and look down at her. She’s standing in the doorway into the lounge, hands clasped in front of her. “Mom.”

“Can we talk?”

I sigh. “Can it wait? I’m tired.”

“I barely see you anymore,” she says. “Please, come.”

I close my eyes, tempted to just head up to my bed. I open them, slowly descend, and walk right past her into the lounge. She touches my arm as I pass, but I ignore her. I don’t sit, turn around to her and say, “What do you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to talk about how you are doing,” she says, walking past me and sitting down on one couch. She gestures to the rest of the couch, “Come. Sit down.”

I cross and sit on the other couch. “I’m fine.”

She studies my expression for a moment. “Are you sure?”

“They’re my feelings; I know them better than you.”

She sighs. “I know that things are tense between you and I, Oliver, but…can you put that aside for tonight? You’re still my son and I’m worried about you. This last week has been—”

“You have _no_ idea what it’s been like for me.”

“Oliver!”

“No, I’m not going to be civil with you. You’ve been lying to me, Thea, and even Dad, _all this time_. You barely see me anymore because I _avoid_ you as much as I can, because I can’t _stand_ to be around you for too long. Don’t even _pretend_ that you understand what I’m going through. I care deeply for Felicity, more than you will _ever_ know, and it’s _killing_ me that someone’s taken her from me. Before you go on about sympathizing with me over losing someone you love, having them _ripped_ from you, _save your breath_. _I don’t care_.”

As I stand and head for the door, she stands, her hand extended towards me.

“Oliver—”

“ _NO!_ ” I yell, spinning on my heel to look at her, letting all the anger out. She’s scared, but I don’t care. Her feelings are the least of my problems right now. “For all I know, _you_ could be behind her disappearance.”

Tears swell in her eyes and for a moment she struggles to breathe. “O-Oliver,” she stutters.

“When she came to you and told you she knew your secret…when she gave _you_ the chance to be honest with me and Thea…what did you do? You _threatened_ her.”

“Oliver, I’m so sor—”

“She told me anyway. She told me _everything_. Then days – just _days_ after we get together – she goes missing. Now, given everything that’s happened recently between us, it’s not hard to wonder if it’s all connected.” I fight back tears. “I thought I could keep up appearances, for Thea’s sake, but I _can’t_. I’m sick of lying to her, of pretending that everything’s okay, when it _isn’t_. So, when I get Felicity back – and believe me, I _will_ – this…this is _all over_.”

“You and I are _done_.”

I turn and walk out, reaching the bottom of the stairs when my cell pings. I pull it out and look – a text from Dig:

_At the foundry. Roy has information._

_You’ll want to hear it._

I sigh, running a hand over my face. “Are you _kidding_ me?” I mutter, before heading for the front door.

****

“What is it?” I ask, coming quickly down the stairs. Dig and Roy are at Felicity’s computers, both turning around when I speak. I frown. “Where’s Sara?”

“Something about Laurel. I decided not to ask.”

“We’ll catch her up later.” I look at Roy. “What information do you have?”

He hesitates. “You’re probably not going to like it.”

I shift my weight from one foot to the other with a huff. “Don’t play games with me, Roy. I’m too tired for that.”

“I was walking through the Glades – keeping an eye out for anything bad, like I always do – and that’s…”, he sighs, “that’s when I saw her.”

Hope rises in me. “Felicity?”

Roy hesitates, before shaking his head. “Laurel.”

I can’t stop my groan, eyes closing. “ _Why_ would I—”

“She was meeting with some strange guy, and…they were talking about her. Felicity.”

My heart jumps into my throat. This is the first lead we’ve had all week. Tears sting my eyes and I can’t breathe for a moment. “Tell…” my voice breaks. I clear my throat, “Tell me _everything_.”

“I can do you one better,” he replies. “As soon as I realized they were talking about her, I recorded it.” He gets his cell out, brings something up, and hands it to me. “Here…look for yourself.”

I take it from him and find a video on the screen – Laurel on the right and a strange man in a suit to the left. I press play.

“You know I expected that green-hooded pal of hers to tag along, just like he did when she walked into our last trap. Fortunately, she fell into this one alone,” the man says. He grins and places his hands on her arms. “Look a _little_ more happy, Laurel! She’s out of his life… _for good_.”

She looks shocked. “You…you _killed_ her?”

My stomach turns into knots and I close my eyes. _Please no!_

“Oh, don’t be like that.”

I force myself to open my eyes. If they are responsible for her death, I want to see their faces when they admit it.

“No! I just…all I wanted was for you to _kidnap_ her! I just wanted her out of his life, so I could have Ollie back! She’s done nothing but pull him away from me. I did _not_ want you to _kill_ her!”

“What’s done is done, Laurel.”

“ _No!_ ”

“Why don’t you just go home, Laurel. He’s _all yours_ now.” He turns and walks off.

“Hey! Come back!” He keeps going, ignoring her. “I didn’t want you to kill her!”

He disappears around the corner. She lets out a strangled cry, her hand whipping up to cover her mouth. She stands there for a minute before lowering her hand and turning to leave. She looks right over the camera to Roy and stares.

“Roy?” She sounds shocked to see him.

She steps closer with one arm outstretched towards the camera – no, to Roy – and touches his arm. The camera shakes as Roy puts distance between them – I don’t blame him after what he’s heard.

“Roy?”

The camera shakes more as Roy runs down the street.

“ROY!” She shouts, the last noise before the video ends.

I look at the others, noting how awkward the younger one looks, and say, “Laurel…Laurel’s involved?”

Dig nods once. “Looks like it.”

I toss Roy his cell, he barely catches it, and I rub my hands over my face. I pace.

“I ran off because…well, I thought you’d want to know about it, but also…I thought if I stayed to talk, I’d be…I’d be next.”

“No, you did the right thing, Roy. Thank you.”

“You should also know something I didn’t get on that…whoever he is, he said something you should know.”

I stop and look at him. “What?”

“You’ve probably already guessed, but…he’s…he’s the bomber. Or maybe one of the bombers – it was hard to tell whether ‘we’ meant him and Laurel, or him and others.”

I close my eyes. “Of _course_. It all just _had_ to connect, didn’t it?” I pace again.

“How long do you think she’s known about all of it?” Dig asks. “The bombs?”

I sigh. “I don’t know.” It doesn’t sound like something she’d get involved with. Then again, she doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would align herself with someone who would harm someone else just to get them out of her life. I shake my head as thoughts of Mom, Malcolm and the Undertaking appear. “Do we know who the man is?”

“I have his face running through Felicity’s facial recognition program now,” Dig says, “but it’ll take some time to process it.”

I stop and stare at my bow. _Should I go threaten her for more information?_ She won’t know it’s me and she already hates the Arrow, so…why not?

_“You have no idea when she won’t be around.”_

I close my eyes and shake my head, “ _No_.”

“Oliver?” Dig asks.

I turn to them, hands clenched in fists at my side. “That evening…just hours before Felicity went missing…Laurel warned me.”

Dig and Roy look shocked. “Warned you?” Dig asks.

“She came to the office, insisting that she talk with me, but I was so caught up in trying to find the bomber that I had no time to talk to her. She insisted until I gave her the chance to talk,” I reply. “At the time, I dismissed it as Laurel being jealous. I assumed she knew about Felicity and I...our relationship.”

“You now think it was a warning about this? Felicity going missing?”

“Her exact words were, ‘you have no idea when she won’t be around’.” I sigh, struggling to keep back tears. “She warned me and I dismissed it…and now…now Felicity’s…”

“It would have been impossible to have seen the truth in her warning, Oliver,” Dig says. “None of us could have.”

“I missed it, Dig! _I missed it_!” I shout. “I had the chance to _stop_ it, to _save_ Felicity, and I _missed it!_ ”

Something else Laurel said that evening rattled me then – but _what?_ I close my eyes and focus entirely on remembering it.

_“I know, Oliver. About what you do…about who you are.”_

There it is – _about who you are_. I groan. “Fuck.”

“Oliver?”

I open my eyes. “She knows.”

Dig and Roy frown. “Knows what?” Roy asks.

“Laurel…knows I’m…” I shake my head. “She knows I’m the Arrow.”

“ _What_? How?”

“I don’t know. All I know is she told me when we talked, but I dismissed it – for the _exact_ same reason I dismissed her warning about Felicity’s kidnapping.” I rub my fingers together. “I _can’t believe_ _I missed it!_ ”

“What are we going to do now?” Roy asks.

“Wait until we know the man’s identity,” Dig replies. “Strike them both at once.”

I shake my head. “No.”

“Oliver?”

“Dig, I’ve struggled to keep my head straight all week. This is the _closest_ we’ve been to knowing what the _hell_ is going on and I’m _not_ going to sit on it _any longer_.”

“I don’t think it’s wise to rush—”

“Felicity’s been gone _a week_. You can sit around and wait for his identity, but I won’t.” I walk over to my green chest, open it and get out a sheathed knife. I tuck it safely into my jacket’s inside pocket.

“Oliver, what are you getting?”

I grab the bag of herbs, close the lid, stand and look at them, holding the bag so they can see. Dig narrows his eyes.

“What do you plan on doing with those?”

“Get the answers we need.” I head for the stairs.

“Oliver, you’re not thinking straight.”

I turn and walk towards him. “No, I’m not,” I reply, stopping right in front of him. “All week I’ve been slowly losing my mind because the woman I love is missing. Now I find out that the woman I _used_ to love is behind it – so forgive me for finally losing my shit, Diggle.”

“You two can stay here, that’s fine, I’m going to get Felicity back. I’ve waited long enough.”

I turn and head for the stairs. As I reach them, I sense Diggle’s about to say something. “ _Nothing_ you say is going to change my mind, Dig.” I reach the landing and pause. I turn back to them and call out, “This all ends _tonight_.”

****

It’s not very often that I see my brother behind the bar, especially when _Verdant_ is open. He’s crouched behind it, looking at bottles on the lower shelves on the back wall. I wouldn’t have noticed him if I wasn’t bringing new bottles down from the store room. I furrow my brow and step over to him. “Ollie?”

He stands up with a bottle, looks at me, and smiles. “Thea.”

I place the small crate of bottles I’m carrying on the counter and narrow my eyes at him. “What are you doing?”

“Just getting this,” he says, waving the bottle slightly.

I look at it; it’s one of our more expensive brands of wine. I’m not surprised. My frown deepens when I notice he’s chosen one of the already opened bottles. “There’s an unopened one upstairs in the store room. In fact, there are three whole cases.”

“I know, Speedy. I don’t _want_ a full one.”

 

I raise my eyebrow. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

He chuckles. “I need it for something.”

“Tell me what.”

He smiles, puts his hand on my shoulder, and leans in to put his mouth near my ear. “That’s something for you not to know, Speedy.”

He pats my shoulder and walks off, leaving me staring in confusion after him. I shake my head, “I have the weirdest brother ever.”

****

I open my front door, finding him leaning against one side of the doorway as he smirks. I can tell he’s drunk before I see the half empty bottle of wine in his hand. “Ollie.”

“Laurel,” he says with a large nod.

“Why are you here?”

“Nice to see you, too.”

I sigh. “It’s just…we haven’t talked much lately. I didn’t expect to have you knocking on my door.”

“I’ve been…thinking.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Thinking?”

“Yes, you know…” he waves his hand around. “People do it all the time.”

I roll my eyes. “Thinking about what?”

He points behind me. “Can I come in?”

I open the door wider. He smiles as he walks past me and I shut the door. As we walk into my lounge, I wonder if he’s finally put her behind him. Has he come here to move on? The guilt hits – I’m responsible for an innocent woman’s death. Is it okay that I sent her to her death just because I want Ollie to myself? Am I _really_ that selfish?

He perches on the arm of my couch and I stand nearby. He stares at me for several minutes, the longest in a while, without either of us speaking. Is he here to reconnect like we did last year?

“I’ve been thinking a lot about you this week.”

“Really?” I raise my eyebrow. “I thought you’d be thinking of her.”

“I did…for a while,” he tips forward slightly. “Then I kept thinking about…”, he pokes my tummy, “ _you_.”

“Wow,” I reply, stifling a laugh. “You really mustn’t have loved her if you’re moving on that quick.”

“You know me, Laurel…and my track record of relationships.”

“I do,” I smile, “but, I really thought you had finally settled down when you started dating her. She’s not exactly your type.”

“ _Exactly_ why it wasn’t going to last,” he points a finger at me. He thinks for a moment. “If she hadn’t disappeared…”

He looks to the side, getting lost in thoughts. “Ollie.”

His eyes snap to me and his face lights up, like he’d forgotten I’m there. “Laurel!” He spreads his arms, nearly spilling the wine.

“Okay, I’m going to take this before you spill it everywhere,” I say, carefully extracting the bottle from his hand. I place it on the coffee table and turn back to him. “Why did you come to my apartment drunk? You know what I’m going through.”

He nods. “Of course I remember that, L-Laurel.”

“Why come then?”

“I _was_ going to come not drunk, but then I couldn’t.”

I frown. “What?”

He sighs. “I keep thinking about how I keep repeating myself…how I keep ruining relationships, swapping from one woman to the other…how I ruined our relationship by…being with…Sara…”

“Yes.”

“Felicity…I thought…I thought I loved her. I _really_ thought I did. Yet the second she’s not around, I _can’t stop_ thinking about _you_ ,” again he pokes my tummy. “I wanted to come here earlier in the week, to beg you to take me back, but…” he licks his lips, “it didn’t feel right. A part of me felt guilty. It wanted me to hold on; to wait in case Felicity came back…”

“But?”

“I can’t stand it anymore. I’m sick of waiting…of trying to do the right thing. It’s just…” he sighs. “It’s just not _me_.”

“It doesn’t explain why you’re drunk.”

“That’s because…” he sighs, looking down. “I…I didn’t think you’d take me back. So…I got drunk to soften the blow of being rejected.”

I take a step closer and place my hand on his cheek. “Why would I reject you?”

He looks up at me. “All I’ve ever done is hurt you.”

I stroke his cheek. “Love hurts sometimes, Ollie.”

“Not as much as I’ve hurt you.”

“What’s done is done; the past is the past,” I softly say, keeping his eyes locked with mine. “We shouldn’t linger in the past. Let’s focus on what we have now.”

He sighs, pushing into my hand and closing his eyes. He nods. “You’re right.”

I lower my head, but before we can kiss, he turns his face to the side. I frown. “Ollie?”

He pushes his forehead against mine.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers. “Is this why you wanted her gone?”

_What?_

**To Be Continued**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed that! Kate told me she likes my Laurel more than the show's one -- hopefully others do too! She's not my favourite character, so it was hard getting her right, especially with two crucial scenes from her POV.
> 
> Like I said at the start, hopefully Chapter 5 will be up soon!


	5. Take Me Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up right after the end of ch 4, Oliver's search for Laurel's mysterious friend leads him to uncover something big. But when the big moment finally happens, and with all hope ripped out of him, will he be able to do what's necessary or will he crack under the pressure?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more, thanks to Kate for being my beta. Always picking up the mistakes I miss. :)
> 
> Part 2 of what was originally Chapter 4. I cried so much writing a lot of this. Be prepared for an emotional roller-coaster when you read this.
> 
> I want to say a HUGE thanks to everyone for loving this story, it's much appreciated. I love seeing the comments you leave, as well as getting an email saying kudos has been left -- it's such a buzz!
> 
> Enjoy!

**_Previously…_ **

“What’s done is done; the past is the past,” I softly say, keeping his eyes locked with mine. “We shouldn’t linger in the past. Let’s focus on what we have now.”

He sighs, pushing into my hand and closing his eyes. He nods. “You’re right.”

I lower my head, but before we can kiss, he turns his face to the side. I frown. “Ollie?”

He pushes his forehead against mine.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers. “Is this why you wanted her gone?”

_What?_

****

She steps back, dropping her hand from my cheek as she gapes. I force myself to keep a straight face and not smirk. _Gotcha_.

For several attempts, her lips form the word but the noise doesn’t come out. “ _What?_ ”

“You heard me, Laurel.”

She’s quiet for a minute. She frowns. “Are you accusing me of something?”

I pull out my cell, bring up Roy’s video, hold it out for her to see and play it. One hand whips up to cover her mouth as she stares at the screen. It takes her a moment after it ends for her to lower it.

“Did you _honestly_ think that I _wouldn’t_ find out?”

Her bottom lip trembles and tears threaten to pour, but I don’t care – she hurt _Felicity_. I’ll be as hard on her as I can.

“You…you’re _drunk_.”

I shrug, pouting slightly. “I’m a good actor.”

“It’s not what you think, Ollie.”

“ _Really?_ ” I raise an eyebrow. “I think you’re involved in Felicity’s disappearance and you’re now trying to cover it up.”

“I…I think you should go.”

“No.”

“ _Leave_.”

“Not until you answer my questions.”

She backs away more. I stand and close the gap.

“Oliver, _go_ ,” she says, backing even further away and pointing to the door.

“What did she ever do to you, Laurel? Was it the fact that I spend more time with her than you?” I get well into her personal space. “Are you _jealous_ of her?”

“ _Please_ , Ollie—”

I grab her arms, turning right and slamming her back against the wall. I lean my face close to hers as she begins to cry and struggles against my grip.

“I don’t know _why_ you did it, but you may have cost the most _caring_ woman I have _ever_ met her _life_. So, I _don’t care_ if you want me to leave…because _I’m not leaving_.”

I squeeze her arms, causing her to yelp in pain and she cries more.

“What do you want me to say?”

“ _How about the truth_ , _Laurel_ _!_ ”

“I…” She sobs.

“Start from the beginning.”

“I just…I just wanted her to leave. She’s always with you, _always_ pulling you away when we’re talking.”

I frown. “You did all of this to her because you’re _jealous_?”

“I’m sorry, Ollie.”

“No…you’re _not_.” I squeeze her arms and she cries more. “You _shouldn’t_ have done it!”

“I wanted her to leave Starling. I _never_ meant for them to _kill_ her!”

“Why did you get involved with _dangerous_ men to get her to leave?”

“I thought they’d just kidnap her.”

I look at her in disbelief. “ _Kidnap_? Laurel, that man and whoever he works with _bombed_ the city! They planted bombs in the Glades; one nearly killed me and Felicity, while the other destroyed entire _blocks_ of houses.”

“I-I didn’t know…”

“ _WHAT?!_ ” I yell.

She gets more upset. Maybe I should go easy on her, but what she’s done is unthinkable. Just the thought of what they did to Felicity, how her final moments could have been, drives my rage. _She will pay_.

“I didn’t know about the bombs!” She sobs.

“How did you even meet this guy?”

She mumbles, so I squeeze her arms.

“At AA!” She exclaims. “He was there one meeting and we talked. He was there again the next time…” She sniffs. “It’s nice having someone who understands. He was so friendly and…we’d meet and talk between meetings. I felt like I could turn to him…like a sponsor…confide in him how I’m struggling.”

I narrow my eyes. “You told a _stranger_ about Felicity?”

“He’s _not_ a _stranger!_ ” She shouts.

“You know _nothing_ about him!” I shout back.

“You spend _ALL_ your time with _her!_ You give her _more_ attention than you’ve _ever_ given me, and you’ve only known her for _a year!_ ” She squirms, trying to free herself but I don’t let her. “How do you think that makes me feel, Ollie? What do you expect me to do when I watch you give _all_ your attention to that _little_ _nerd_?”

I pull her away from the wall only to slam her harder against it. She whimpers.

“I thought I’d seen the worst that you could do after Sara returned.” I shake my head. “I was _wrong_.”

She drops her head. “I can…I can’t change it. What I’ve done.”

“That’s the smartest comment you’ve made in ages.”

“She’s…she’s dead—”

“Because of _you_.”

She nods, still not looking at me. “I can’t bring her back…but I can help you get revenge.”

I nod. “You can, by telling me his name and where I can find him.”

“His name…is Logan Woodruff.”

“Where can I find him?”

“That’s all I know.”

I hit the wall hard with my right hand and she jumps as she gasps. She looks me in the eyes.

“I _swear_ , Ollie. I don’t have an address.”

“Surely you know _something_ else about him that can help.”

“Uh…” She thinks. “He…he kept talking about the uh…North-Western suburbs.”

“The North-Western suburbs?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

She doesn’t reply. I hit the wall again. “DAMN IT, LAUREL! _Are. You. Sure?_ ”

“ _YES!_ ”

“Oliver!”

I can see Sara in my peripheral vision, standing just inside the open front door. I look at her. “Did you…did you know about this? What she’s done?”

Sara hesitates, eyes dropping from mine for a moment. “She told me earlier tonight.”

My stomach flips. “You didn’t _tell_ me?”

“No—”

“ _Why?_ ”

“You’re too emotionally invested in this, Oliver.” She steps closer. “Look at yourself. You’ve got my sister cornered, she’s terrified and I could you hear you all the way down the hall.”

I step back, dropping my hands to my sides and Laurel sighs. “You know what? I am _done_ with _both_ of you.”

“You need to calm down.”

“ _No_ , I _won’t_.” I point to Laurel. “You have been _lying_ to me for _weeks_ , and…I can’t _believe_ how you could do what you did to Felicity.” I look at Sara. “You know how hard it’s been this week for me. We _finally_ have a lead, a shot at finding Felicity, and _what_ do you do? You _keep_ it from me.”

“Do you want justice for what’s happened?”

“Yes.”

“The best way of getting justice, of seeing the men responsible for Felicity’s death pay…is for the SCPD to arrest them.”

“The SCPD are doing _nothing_!”

“Not anymore,” she calmly says. “They’re on their way.”

I’m too shocked to speak.

“That’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve been talking with Dad and then Lieutenant Pike. They’re on their way over here to take Laurel in.”

“That’s all fine, but while that’s happening…Woodruff and his goons could be fleeing Starling.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Just like you don’t know that they’ll stay.”

“It’s time for you to leave this to the police.”

I shake my head.

“Charging in there when you’re this emotionally unstable _isn’t_ going to help anyone.”

“Well, thanks to you two, I’ve lost the chance to get her back alive.” I head for the door.

“Oliver—”

“I’ve had _enough_ of people betraying me.” I lean right into Sara’s personal space. “Having people I _trust_ turning against me, in _unforgivable_ ways. I used to trust you. _Both_ of you,” I glance at Laurel. “The lies and deceit?” I shake my head. “I can’t deal with it anymore.”

“What do you even see in her, Ollie?”

I whip my head to look at Laurel.

“She’s just a computer geek who babbles about the silliest little things. She belongs behind a desk, surrounded by computers, tucked away in the corners of an IT Department, _not_ as the CEO’s E.A.”

“She’s _more_ than that. She’s my _partner_ …in _more_ ways than you’ve _ever_ been, Laurel!” I step towards her. “She’s been an integral part of my team for the last two years. I can’t imagine having done nearly as much as I have if I didn’t have her. If it wasn’t for her, _both_ devices would’ve gone off in the Glades last year, which means _more_ people would have perished. So, don’t you _dare_ turn your nose up at her. She’s more than you’ll _ever_ be.”

Laurel laughs. “She really has you wrapped around her finger, doesn’t she?” She steps even closer, our bodies an inch apart. She smiles, before whispering, “I’m glad she’s dead.”

Rage takes over and I slam her so hard against the wall ornaments drop off the set of drawers. Both women are shouting and struggling to free her from me but I ignore them. I place my left arm across her abdomen, pinning her to the wall, as I pull the knife out of my pocket and press the blade against her neck. She freezes, eyes wide as they lock with mine and her breath catches in her throat. Sara’s trying to pull me back so I rotate my left shoulder to shrug her off.

“Oliver!”

“ _You_ _killed her, Laurel!_ ” I shout. “You sent her to her death and then you _insult_ her to _my face_!”

“OLIVER!”

“ _Stay out of this, Sara!_ ” I say through gritted teeth, glancing at her.

“Not when you’re holding a knife to her throat.”

“She _ripped_ from me the _one_ _person_ in my life who has _never_ lied to me.” I look at Laurel and bring my face close to hers. She clamps her eyes shut. “She _has_ to pay!”

I imagine Felicity, sitting at her desk in the foundry, pouting slightly as she looks sad. She wouldn’t want me to kill Laurel in my revenge for her death. Except Felicity’s not here, and I’m staring at the woman responsible for her absence. Should I take from her the way she took from me?

The anger subsides, like it always does when Felicity speaks, and the bigger picture comes back into focus. I _can’t_ kill Laurel. It’s not right.

I step back as I drop my arms to my side. Laurel struggles to breathe again and Sara rushes to her side. I stand there for several minutes, watching Sara check Laurel’s throat for any cuts as the latter cries and shakes.

“Stay…” My voice is all croaky. I clear my throat and both women look at me, Sara ready to defend her sister. “Stay out of my life. _Both_ of you.”

I walk out as I put my knife away. I don’t stop until I’m out on the street, where I take a deep breath in and slowly exhale. I call Dig.

“Look for any properties in the North-Western suburbs owned by a Logan Woodruff,” I say, hanging up before he can respond.

****

Woodruff doesn’t own any properties in Starling City’s North-Western suburbs. However, a company he partially owns does. By the time I get back at the foundry, Dig has the address.

“You held a knife to Laurel’s throat?” He asked the second I stepped inside, thirty minutes ago.

“We’ll discuss it later; just give me the address,” I replied, heading straight to collect my Arrow gear.

Now the building’s in front of me, eerily similar to the one where we found the first bomb and my stomach twists up at the memories. This all started there. I close my eyes and push away the images of Felicity from that night not so long ago – kissing her for the first time, lying in bed with her as I tangle my fingers in her hair, how happy we both were despite nearly dying. As I open my eyes, I will myself to use those memories as the strength to do what I came here to do; _get revenge_.

I scan the exterior looking for the right entry point. I spot a series of windows on one end of the top level and climb the neighboring building to its roof, where I zip line over; smashing feet first through one of the windows. I land and crouch as I load my bow, but it’s empty. The paint is coming off the walls and there are a few holes in the roof and floors – it’s abandoned.

I search the upper two levels room by room, each as empty as its predecessor, until I reach the ground level. Only three rooms form the ground level and in minutes I’ve checked the smaller two, finding nothing. I turn my focus on the final and largest room. As I cross to the door, I hope that inside I’ll find the men – or at least a clue that will lead me to them.

I use one of my trick arrows to blow the door off its hinges, loading my bow as I step over the threshold. This room’s darker than the others and its windows are boarded up so much there’s barely any light coming in. The only source of light is from a camping lantern and a really old TV in the middle of the room, so small in the cavernous room. I catch movement in the corner of my left eye and I try to change my aim to shoot at it, but the man tackles me before I can. I groan as I hit the floor hard and flip him over my head, using the momentum to flip myself upright. He comes at me again and I sidestep to my left, hitting his back with my bow as he passes me. Every time he attacks, I block or dodge it, landing more blows than receiving. He finally lands a couple, but I reciprocate every single one at twice the force. With a loud cry he charges me, so I crouch and he misses; I swing my bow and sweep him off his feet. He draws his gun, firing a round that makes me jump back. I’m thankful he has terrible aim. I load my bow with three arrows, taking a moment to slow my breathing before letting them fly. His shout as they hit echoes through the space and then there’s silence.

I frown as turn around in a circle, taking the room in – _why have only one man in an abandoned building? What am I missing?_ That’s when it catches my attention – the TV. The screen’s black and white; the picture struggling to keep the static away, making it hard to see it properly from this distance.

I cautiously approach, on alert for any traps (who leaves a TV in the middle of a room like this without setting a trap around it?). I tap the ground in front of it with my bow and find no traps. My eyes finally settle on the screen and chest tightens as I take in the sight – _Felicity!_ I drop to my knees, overwhelmed by emotions. _How could they be so cruel, leaving this here for me to watch?_ She’s wounded, curled up on the floor in the centre of the screen, and I can’t help but wonder if these are her final few minutes.

I stand, unable to look at it anymore. As I turn to leave, something in the right corner of the screen catches my eye. I stop and focus on the all-too-familiar date and time – it’s a _live feed!_ My grip on my bow loosens and I barely register the _thud_ it makes as it hits the ground.

“Oh…my… _God_ ,” I whisper, dropping to my knees once more.

_She’s alive!_

_ALIVE!_

****

“What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Laurel?”

“Oh, so you’re still talking to me?”

I huff, shifting my weight from foot-to-foot. “When you know something that I need to know, I’m going to talk to you.”

“Oh, so I’m banned from your life when it’s convenient for you.”

“ _Sara!_ ” I bark. “Just… _tell me where she is!_ ”

She crosses her arms. “In the interrogation room at the SCPD. Dad and two officers came half an hour ago. She was still very upset, not that I blame her after what you did. Oh, and if I were you, avoid my dad for a while. He doesn’t know about the knife…because, as much as you’re an idiot for doing something that stupid to my sister, you’re doing something good for the city and dealing with your grief. Besides, he doesn’t want to know the Arrow’s identity.”

“I need to talk to her again.”

She’s surprised. “After your last talk with her? That was _spectacular_.”

“It’s about the case.”

She shakes her head, laughing slightly. “Like that makes a difference.”

“Felicity’s—”

“ _Dead_.”

“ _Alive_.”

I watch as it slowly clicks, her eyes widening and jaw dropping. “Are…are you sure?”

I nod. “Dig found a building owned by Woodruff. I found a TV with a live surveillance video feed.” I fight back tears. “I saw her.”

“That’s…that’s good, Ollie.”

“It’s amazing.” I let out a shaky breath. “Except the feed wasn’t coming from that building.”

She nods. “So, you want to know if Laurel knows anything else.”

“Yes.”

She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Ollie…no.”

“This is the closest I’ve been to finding her all week. I can’t let it go.”

“How do you plan on getting to her? She’s in the SCPD for the remainder of tonight.”

“I’ve broken into prison several times; I can sneak into the SCPD.”

“She _doesn’t_ want to _talk_ to _you_ , Oliver! Just _leave it be!_ ”

I close the gap, standing so close to her we’re almost touching. “Your sister betrayed me the moment she wished this upon Felicity. I don’t _care_ about what _she_ wants.”

“She’s told you everything she knows. How about instead of wasting your time trying to get to her, you focus on finding Felicity.”

I clench my fists at my sides, resisting the urge to attack her – _it’s not worth losing it again_. I turn around and cross to the open window that leads to the fire escape. I stop as I reach it, look over my shoulder and say, “Tell her I’ll make sure she pays once I’ve got Felicity back.”

I climb out before she can reply.

****

“Where have you been?” Dig asks as I descend the stairs into the lair. He stands from Felicity’s computers, crossing his arms as he steps beside Roy.

“Yeah, you said over the comms you were coming back. It took you longer to get back here than it did to go.”

“Geez, how motherly of both of you.”

“We’re just worried about you, Oliver,” Diggle says.

“Well, it’s not necessary. I went back to Laurel’s, okay?” I slam my bow into its stand. “I wanted to talk to her, see if she has any more information.”

“Did she?”

“She’s at the SCPD.”

“So, you didn’t talk to her.”

“Oh, bravo! Congrats on getting that.”

“No need for sarcasm, Oliver.”

I sigh. “Let’s just focus on finding Felicity.”

“We may have another lead,” Roy says.

“What?” I turn to face them. “Really?”

“We haven’t had much luck finding any buildings owned by Woodruff.”

I huff, “I knew that.”

“I got to thinking about how this guy stole Pickering’s identity.”

“So?”

“So, what if Woodruff _isn’t_ his _real_ name?”

I frown.

“What Roy’s trying to say is we think Woodruff is just another layer, just another false name, to throw us off.”

“And?”

Dig smirks. “We cracked the code.”

I sigh. “You two are being incredibly annoying.”

“Woodruff – eight letters. We tried rearranging them, trying to find his real name within it, but it’s all just gibberish,” Roy says. “Then it hit me – Woodruff is the _English_ version of his name.”

“What if he’s hiding his real identity by using the English version?” Dig asks.

I roll my eyes. “Can you two just get to the point? Felicity’s alive and I have the chance to save her. I’d rather not waste time.”

“Logan Woodruff is German,” Dig says, turning to bring up information on the computer. “His real name is Logan _Waldmeister_.”

I look at the screen – a heading that reads ‘Logan Waldmeister’, with text underneath. What catches my eye is the photo – the man from Roy’s video.

“We have another address.”

My eyes snap to Dig’s. I turn, grab my bow and head towards the door, “Text it to me.”

As I ascend the stairs, I hear Roy say to Dig, “Maybe he’ll be less grumpy after tonight.”

I smirk. _Soon I’ll have her back._

****

_So cold!_

I lick my lips – they’re dry and cracked. I try to move, try to roll onto my side, but my whole body hurts. Places in my body hurt that I didn’t know existed. I will my eyes to open, wanting to see my surroundings. I can only manage to open them a little, even that small action hurts, and what I do see is shrouded in darkness. There are too many shadows to determine where I am.

The last thing I remember is being at the house, trying to leave. _Oh GOD!_ Someone attacked me! I try to find my cell but the pain is too much. I can barely move and let out a groan that only makes my throat ache. How long have I been lying here? _Where_ is here? I can’t still be at the house – the others would’ve noticed if I’m gone for too long and traced my cell. I’d be safely back in the foundry, not in this dark room all alone.

He must be going out of his mind right now. He’s searching for me. He won’t give up the search. Tears fall and every breath is hard to take. All I want is to be back in his arms.

I don’t recognize my own voice, it sounds so broken when I sob, “ _Oliver!_ ”

****

The latter drops to the ground after my bow collides with his face. Six men attacked me upon arrival at the address Dig and Roy had found. I took three out right away with arrows, while the other three required hand-to-hand combat.

“Wow. Only three dead,” Roy’s voice comes over our comms.

“Actually, zero. They were tranq arrows.”

“So, he goes soft on the baddies, but all hard-ass on me,” Roy mutters. “Think he’s got it backwards.”

“You need to toughen up more if you’re going to be my sidekick, Roy,” I reply as I walk down the corridor.

“I’m your sidekick?”

“You will be if you toughen up.”

“Hey! I’m tough!”

I snort laugh.

“I am!”

“We can discuss it later. I’m trying to save my girl.”

He laughs before saying to Dig, “‘My girl’. Felicity’s gonna verbally kick his butt for that.”

Dig chuckles. “Who do you think came up with it?”

“Wait… _she did?_ ”

Dig chuckles again, the last sound I hear as I tap my chest to turn off the comms. Silence surrounds me as I slowly walk with an arrow notched at the ready; but there’s no sign of any life. Dig had managed to hack into a satellite and get heat signatures for the building. Not only did it tell us how many people were there, but exactly where Felicity’s being held. Dig had discovered four heat signatures unmoving on the ground floor – I’d bet my life one of them is Felicity. I search the entire ground floor. _Nothing_.

Huffing, I slap my comm hidden under my jacket and growl, “She’s _not here!_ ”

“What?” Dig replies, shocked.

“I have searched the _entire_ ground floor. She’s _not here!_ ”

“I’ll send the heat signatures to your cell. You can look for yourself.”

I get my cell out and look at the map of heat signatures. According to this, I should be standing in the same room as the four heat signatures. I look around, finding myself alone.

“It’s _wrong!_ It says I should be with the four signatures, but there’s no one here.”

Silence. I tighten my hold on my bow – I’m _so damn close_! How could this go _so wrong?_

Dig groans. “How did I miss this earlier?”

“Miss what?”

He sighs. “It doesn’t differentiate different levels in a building.”

I close my eyes. “So I’m not in the same room as them,” I reply. “I’m _above_ them.”

I can picture him nodding. “I’d say so.”

I hurry back into the main corridor, shutting off my comm, searching for a stairwell down. There _has_ to be a basement. I find it in the back corner of the building, tucked away in a large room; it’s lost in a shadow cast by a large wooden bookcase. I tap my voice distorter on before I slowly descend, arrow notched at the ready, the light fading with every step I take. The stairs spiral down, opening into a concrete corridor that is damp, moldy and the lights flickering away. There’s only one door, right at the very end of the corridor, and I walk towards it at a brisk pace. The thought of being moments away from Felicity spurs me on.

I kick the door open, stepping over the threshold as I lift my loaded bow and aim it at the head of the middle man in the row of three standing meters away. The room takes up half of the building, as poorly lit as the corridor, and the three men are intentionally standing between lights so their faces are hidden in shadows.

“I wouldn’t do anything rash,” the middle man says and I instantly recognize him as Logan Woodruff. “You’re obviously here for one thing and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to jeopardize her life once again.”

He turns sideways, gesturing with one hand behind them to a lump in the middle of the room. I peer through the darkness, focusing on the shape. No, not ‘lump’ – _Felicity_.

She’s got her back to me and is not moving. My chest tightens – _is she alive?_ Rage spreads through my body as I turn my focus back to Woodruff. I could easily kill all three men – take out the two goons and then slowly torture Woodruff. However, that would only fulfill my revenge, not deliver the justice Felicity and his other victims deserve.

“Lower your weapon or she dies,” Woodruff says. “Right here. Right now. I won’t hesitate.”

My survival instincts scream no but my heart doesn’t want to risk Felicity’s life, not when I’ve come this close to having her back. I slowly lower my bow.

“Put it on the ground.”

“No.”

He nods. “Fine, then say your final goodbye to the pretty blonde…” He aims a gun at Felicity.

“STOP!” I shout.

He laughs as he looks at me. “It’s surprising how much you care for her. One might even wonder if it’s out of love.” He chuckles and then tilts his head. “Do you know she _doesn’t_ love you? She’s been muttering ‘Oliver’ ever since we took her. Seems like she’s fallen for a playboy millionaire who was trapped on an island for five years; not a green leather-clad vigilante.”

I growl, before slowly crouching and lay my bow on the ground.

“Good, good,” he says as I stand.

“Let her go.”

“Why?”

“What has she done to be held like this?”

He chuckles. “I’m merely helping a friend out. She’s been too much in my friend’s way and needed to be taken out of the way for a while.”

“Your ‘ _friend_ ’, Laurel Lance, is currently sitting in an interrogation room inside the SCPD, telling them _everything_.”

“How do you know this? Do you work with the SCPD? Last time I checked, they _didn’t_ work with vigilantes.”

“I have ways of knowing these things.”

He shrugs. “So what if that little brat gives it all up to them. This place is rigged – all I have to do is press one button, and it’ll go… _Boom_ ,” he says, gesturing with one hand the explosion. “You, her and every piece of evidence linking me to all of this _and_ the bombings will all go up, while I make my escape. By the time the SCPD arrive, there’ll be _nothing left_.”

“Not if I stop you.”

He steps forward into the light and raises an eyebrow. “Are you capable of getting your bow off the floor _and_ disarming me _all_ before I shoot her?”

“I don’t need my bow to disarm you.”

He laughs, turning to face his men. I take advantage of being out of his sight and take one of my darts from its holder on my arm. I hold it tightly at my side, out of his sight, just as he turns back to me.

“How do you expect to do it from _that_ distance?”

I smirk as I throw the dart; its tip burying itself deep into his left wrist; his gun slips out of his hand. “Told you I don’t need my bow.”

He glances at each of his men and then gestures towards me. The two men charge at me but I drop to my knees, pick up my bow and fire a tranq arrow at one of them. The second man reaches me before I can fire a second arrow, so I block his every blow with my bow. I quickly grab another tranq arrow and stab his thigh. The man cries out and swings to punch me, but is knocked out by the tranq before it can land. I stand as I load my bow and aim at Woodruff. It’s the last tranq arrow. If he runs and I miss, I’ll have no choice but to use a kill shot. _How will we get justice if he dies?_

He spreads his arms. “What are you waiting for? End this!”

My hand shakes. I can end this right now, but what if he triggers the explosives? There’s no way I can reach Felicity and get us out of here before the building explodes. We’d both perish.

He laughs. “Cracking under the pressure, vigilante?”

“Give me the control for the explosives.”

He smiles. “Worried I’ll take you both with me if you let loose the kill shot?”

“ _Where. Is. It?_ ” I growl, my hand shaking again.

I can see her in the corner of my vision – she still hasn’t moved and that worries me. _What if I’m too late? What if she’s already…NO! Don’t go there!_

“I’m not giving it to you…which means you’re just going to have to risk killing all three of us.”

I lower my bow. “I don’t want you dead.”

He laughs. “You’ve killed all my men. Why stop now?”

“They’re not dead. Just tranquilized.”

“Fine. If you’re too _weak_ to kill me and my men, then I’ll kill _you_.”

He charges at me and we exchange blow after blow for several minutes. He catches me off guard, throwing a punch that collides with my cheek and I drop to my knees. Before I can get back up he kicks my chest and, winded, I collapse onto the concrete floor. Bleeding and bruised, I turn my focus to Felicity as despair sets in. _I have failed to save us_. If this is the end, I want to be next to her. I use all my strength to crawl slowly towards her, every muscle protesting against the movement.

His laughter fills the large space, and while I still have rage for him, I’m too weak to do anything other than crawl to the woman I love’s side.

“Did you _honestly_ think I’d let you draw your last breath beside her?” He asks as he steps on my right leg, causing me to groan. “I’m going to ensure that you stay this close to her as you _die_.” He applies more pressure on my leg. “You’ll be spending your last moment knowing that you _failed_ her.”

The rage surging through me reaches its limit and I can no longer keep the monster locked deep within. With a shout I swing my bow, colliding with Woodruff’s right leg and knocking him off balance. He stumbles back, releasing me in the process and I waste no time rolling onto my back. He throws a knife at me but I block it with my bow as I stand. He charges. I swing my bow but he dodges it and tackles me, slamming me onto the floor so hard my bow slips from my hand. We struggle, flipping multiple times until I finally pin him under me on the floor.

He smirks. “ _Kill me_.”

“No.”

“You’ve grown weak, vigilante! What happened to killing those you’re up against?”

I growl before standing up. He laughs as he gets to his feet, but only achieves sitting up before I slam the end of my bow into his cheek, rendering him unconscious. “Jackass,” I mutter.

I turn, cross to her and drop to my knees. She’s unconscious, which worries me. All the possible life-threatening injuries she could have right now flash through my mind. I cup her face with both hands. “Felicity.”

Her eyes are closed but she groans softly. I smile as I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding back. “Come on, baby, open your eyes,” I whisper, as I rub my thumbs along her cheeks.

She groans again, turning her head into my right hand and smiling slightly.

“It’s me, Felicity. I’m here. You’re safe. Come on, wake up.”

Her eyes slowly flitter open. She blinks several times to wipe away the grogginess she’s feeling. I smile as her eyes focus on mine. “Hey,” I whisper.

Her focus shifts slightly to my left and her eyes widen. I look over my left shoulder to see Woodruff standing two steps away, his gun pointed at me. I slowly take my hands from her face. She reaches out and slides her hand over my right forearm as I stand, making me wish I could stay within her reach, but I have to protect her.

“You didn’t actually hit me, I’m really good at faking things. I needed you to lower your guard. When you swung to hit me, I took advantage of it; made it _look_ like you’d knocked me out…when really you didn’t even _touch_ me.”

I purse my lips, wishing I’d picked up my bow as I stood up – but it’s behind me, next to her head. He could easily shoot either of us, maybe even both, in the time it takes me to get and load it – even at my fastest.

He laughs. “What to do now?” He shrugs. “You could risk me putting a bullet in you…but who would defend the pretty blonde?”

I slowly move my right hand towards the small arrows in my leg holster – except he looks down and notices before I can still my hand.

“Don’t do anything foolish, vigilante, and your lives will be spared,” he says and then smiles. “For _now._ ”

I move my arm away from my holster, keeping it just close enough so I can quickly grab an arrow if need be. In the corner of my right eye I can see Felicity’s legs, I watch as they slip out of my sight; she’s getting up.

“I’m surprised you’ve managed to survive the last year,” he says as I slowly put my left arm behind my back, palm open and facing out as the back of my hand touches my back. “Because I’ve brought you down…without really even _trying_.”

I feel the handle of my bow press against my palm and I wrap my fingers around it, holding it tightly as Felicity steps into my peripheral vision several steps to my left – far enough to be out of the way.

“You haven’t.”

He frowns. “Haven’t what?”

I smile even though he can’t see it. “Brought me _down_.”

I quickly grab his wrist with my right hand and force him to point the gun at the ceiling to avoid getting shot before whipping my bow around and slam it hard against his cheek. My blow knocks him sideways and his arm twists behind him, forcing him to drop his gun. I release his wrist, watching as he takes several steps forward to regain his balance. I step between him and Felicity as I draw an arrow from my quiver and load it. I won’t hesitate to kill him if I have to, even if it means justice won’t be fully served. If it means stopping him from inflicting any more harm to Felicity, I’ll do it.

He laughs, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth. “You’re foolish thinking you’re invincible.”

“I’m not,” I reply. “I just have to outlast you in this fight.”

“Defeat me,” he says, pulling a small rectangular control with one button out of his pocket and holding it up for me to see, “and I’ll blow the whole building up before you can escape. You _won’t_ win this, vigilante!”

Felicity’s movement catches my eye as she passes behind Woodruff, who has yet to notice her. I smile as I realize she’s my secret weapon. “You’re right – I won’t win.”

He laughs. “Good boy! Choosing your life over bringing me down.”

“I won’t win,” I say as I lower my bow. “But _we will_.”

Woodruff frowns and seconds later Felicity roundhouse kicks his hand, knocking the control right out of his hand. I shoot my arrow into his shoulder, preventing him from striking back at her, and then tackle him. We struggle once more, rolling around as we try to gain dominance. He pins me on my back and his right hand wraps around my neck. I desperately try to push him off, trying in vain to pull his hand off my neck, as I feel my breath being squeezed out of me.

_BANG!_

The noise echoes throughout the room and Woodruff collapses to his right, his hands slipping from my throat. As I take in big gulps of air, my eyes drift to Felicity who is standing a meter and a half away, hands clasped tight around Woodruff’s gun. The barrel drops and the gun slides out of her hands, hitting the floor with a _thud_.

“You’ll pay for this, _BITCH!_ ” Woodruff screams, clutching his left thigh in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

I quickly draw an arrow from my leg holster as I sit up, pushing through the pain rocking my entire body. I stab his left thigh. He screams in agony, hitting my arm to try and stop me. It only makes me drive my arrow deeper into his leg, tearing through his muscle as I embed it as far as I can, stopping only when I feel the tip meet bone. I stand, closing my eyes for a moment to stop my spinning vision, and mutter, “I win.”

I turn, as I tap my voice distorter off, and cross to Felicity. She’s still standing in the same spot, her lip trembling and tears brimming.

“Hey,” I whisper, cupping her face with both hands.

She closes her eyes and sighs as she lets my touch calm her. She pushes her lips tightly together to stop the trembling. I pull her in, my left hand sliding into her hair while I wrap my right arm around her. I hold her close, tucking her head under my chin as her arms wrap around me and holds tight onto my jacket.

“You’re safe now,” I whisper.

She sniffs and then nods. I sigh, relieved to have her back in my arms. We stand there holding each other for a long moment before I kiss the top of her head and pull back. I cup her cheek with my left hand and she turns into my touch as she closes her eyes and smiles slightly. After a minute, she opens her eyes.

“Take me home,” she whispers.

I nod as I smile. I pick my bow off the floor and hand it to her. She takes it, confused.

“Wha—” She cuts off as I scoop her up into my arms – my left arm around her back, right arm behind her knees. She just stares in shock. “O-o-okay.”

“What?”

“You know I can walk,” she says as I turn and walk towards the door.

“Neither of us knows what he’s used to keep you sedated for the last week—”

“Wait… _what?_ I’ve been here _a week?_ ”

I stifle a laugh. “You’re not helping your case.”

“Geez, I thought I’d only been missing a couple of days,” she says as I climb the stairs. She pushes my hood back, staring into my eyes as she frowns slightly. “I can’t even begin to wonder what it must’ve been like for you, not knowing where I was for a whole week. I mean, I know what it’s like to panic over losing you. I do it every time you hood up and go out patrolling, but that’s _nothing_ compared to what you must’ve gone through.”

I pull her closer. “All that matters is you’re safe now.”

She nods. “Is it true?” She asks, adjusting my bow so it lies diagonally across her and partly over my right shoulder. “Laurel…she was a part of this?”

I nod. “I found out only a few hours ago.”

“Geez, what is it with you and having crazy exes?”

I smile, noting the joking tone to her voice. “Seems to come with the crazy life I have.”

She smiles as I step into the room at the top of the stairs. “Your life isn’t crazy, Oliver.”

I raise my eyebrow, “Really? You call _this_ normal?”

“It’s…unique.”

I smile. She reaches up and gently touches the bruises on my face. “I missed you. Obviously not the bruised and battered you, I’ll never miss that…” she stops and I hear her count ‘3…2…1’ under her breath. She then continues in a whisper, “I missed you.”

I stop and press my forehead against hers. “I missed you, too,” I say, my voice sounding rough.

Her lips crash into mine, a week of longing for each other finally getting the better of us, and I pull her tighter against me. Her hand slides over my cheek, to the back of my head, as she grabs a fistful of my hair. She moans and the lust flowing through me makes me want to take her right here. The sound of sirens approaching breaks our kiss and for a moment I stand there with my forehead pressed against hers as we both pant. I step forward as I pull my head back and go for the front door. She slides her hand from my hair and gently pulls my hood back up, adjusting it until it’s in the right place.

I turn a corner and at the other end of the corridor is the doorway that held the front door until I’d kicked it in earlier. Streetlight and car headlights stream into the dark corridor causing me to squint as I walk its length. Felicity rests her head on my shoulder near my neck as she closes her eyes, blocking out the bright light. Police officers with guns drawn approach the building just as I step out and pause, waiting for them to open fire.

“HOLD YOUR FIRE!” Detective Lance shouts from somewhere off to my right.

“Turn my voice distorter back on,” I whisper to her as I walk towards Lance.

She slowly moves her hand, trying not to draw attention to it, and taps the spot on my chest where it lies.

“The men who did this and the bombings are all inside, Detective Lance,” I say as I approach him. “In the basement.”

“You leave any of them alive for us?” He asks and I take note of the bitter tone.

“All of them are still breathing,” I reply, a little too aggressively, before walking past him.

“She should be checked out by the medics.”

I stop mid-step and look down at her. She snuggles her face closer in against my neck, letting out a small groan followed by a mumbled, “No.”

“I’m capable of looking after her myself, Detective,” I say without looking at him.

“It’s best that she gets professional medical treatment, especially when we don’t know what that son-of-a-bitch did to her over the last week,” he replies. “We have medics here, just let them look her over. It’ll save you a trip to the hospital later.”

I turn around. “Felicity. Do you want the medics to treat you?”

“No.”

I look at Lance. “You heard her. It’s her choice.”

“I agree, but if she’s been drugged for most of the week, she’s in no shape to be making decisions like this.” He steps closer. “If something has happened to her, don’t you think it’d be better to know it now rather than later?”

“She doesn’t _want_ to, Detective.”

His eyes narrow. “Does she? Or is she saying that because you _want_ her to?”

I clench my jaw. “It’s _her_ decision. I don’t make decisions for her.”

“She cares for you, as much as you do her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she makes decisions with you in mind.”

“I’m a grown woman, Detective,” Felicity says, lifting her head from me and looking at him. “It’s my life. It’s my choice. I don’t want to be looked over by strangers. All I want is to leave this place right now. I want to be back in the foundry, where I belong, being cared for by the _only_ one I want touching me right now.”

“I get that, Ms Smoak, but please understand that I’m worried about you. Just let them check you over. You don’t have to be taken to the hospital, but just let them take a look.”

The two paramedics are approaching and I take several steps back. A rough noise of protest rips from her as she takes hold of my jacket and uses it to pull herself closer to me.

“Let me go _home!_ ” She cries, burying her face into my jacket.

I nuzzle the top of her head, and whisper words of comfort to her as she cries.

“I just want to go home, Oliver,” she whispers. “Just take me away.”

“I will, Kitsu.” I look up to see the paramedics are much closer, one of them reaching a hand out towards Felicity. I snarl, turning my body to block him from her.

“Let them look at her,” Lance says, pleadingly.

“ _NO!_ ” I shout, moving out of the paramedic’s reach once more.

Felicity’s grip on my jacket tightens and she nuzzles against my neck as she whimpers.

“Alright. You can go, but…promise me something.”

“What?”

“In the morning, she needs to come to the precinct and give us a statement.”

“Done,” I reply and walk off before he can say anything else.

The only noise as I carry her to my car parked in a nearby alley is the little whimpers she makes. I shift her slightly in my arms, holding her tighter.

“Shhh, shhh,” I whisper, gently rubbing her arm. “It’s okay. You’re safe. We’re going home.”

It’s a struggle to unlock and open the passenger door while she’s in my arms, but I eventually do and gently lower her into the seat. When I pull back, she grabs my jacket and pulls me back down. Her lips slam into mine in the most passionate kiss she’s ever given me. My left hand slides up her back and into her messy ponytail. _Oh, how I’ve longed all week to kiss her again!_ We don’t part until we’re both desperate for air. We press our foreheads together.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper.

She taps my chest, gentle yet firm enough to deactivate my voice distorter. “Say it again.”

I smile, chuckling. “I missed you _so much_ ,” I whisper, bringing my right hand up to cup her cheek.

“I missed you, too,” she whispers back. She runs her fingers through my week-long stubble. “You called me ‘kitsu’…what—”

“It’s ‘kitten’ in Russian,” I reply, rubbing my thumb back and forth over her cheek. “I know I’ve never called you that. I…I was going to ask you if I could, but it slipped out. I thought you’d like it.”

“It’s cute…for a Russian word.”

I laugh. “See, even the Russians can be cute.”

She scoffs. “Not the ones I’ve met.” We’re quiet for a moment before she continues, “Now, my knight in shining green leather armor, can we _please_ go home?”

I nod. “Sure.”

I press my lips gently against hers, pulling back before it deepens. I pull back and straighten, our hands lingering on each other for a long moment before I step back and shut the door. I quickly get in, push my hood back as I turn the engine on and speed off. I reach over and slip my hand into hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Oliver.”

“Yes?”

“Can I wear your jacket later?”

I smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this! I'm excited to share it with you, but also sad that I'm wrapping this up. It's been my most successful Olicity fic, and my longest! It's over 40,000 words long now!
> 
> Chapter 6 on it's way! It's already partly done!


	6. When All Of The Light Just Fades Away (In Your Darkest Hour)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team face Woodruff's trial, Laurel finally faces the consequences of her actions, and Olicity struggle to deal with the lasting effect on their relationship this case has had on them. But the biggest twist is yet to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks to Kate for proofreading. Couldn't do this to this level of brilliance without you! :)
> 
> Sorry for taking so damn long with this. Had some issues getting my head around the legal stuff -- which I ended up mostly avoiding in order to get it out.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy!! :)
> 
> OH and the ending? Was planned out BEFORE 3x01.

“I…I don’t remember anything else. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, Ms Smoak,” Detective Lance says, giving me a reassuring smile.

“Can she go now?” Oliver says from the chair beside me, trying to sound neutral, but there’s an angry edge to it.

I glance down, he’s rubbing his right thumb and forefinger together – the only tell-tale sign of his discomfort. I want to reach out and place my hand over his, to calm him, but I can’t. As far as Detective Lance knows, Oliver Queen is nothing more than my boss and friend. That means I can’t be the caring girlfriend that he needs me to be right now. I sigh – _Oliver Queen’s girlfriend_. Now _there’s_ a term I never thought I’d use to describe myself…in real life anyway…the me in my dreams would.

“You’re here because Ms Smoak requested your presence. Don’t push your luck, Mr. Queen.”

“You wanted her to make a statement and she has. I don’t see why she can’t leave now.”

“There are a few parts I want to double-check. Impede any further and I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Oliver frowns. “Are you letting your personal feelings get in the way, Detective?”

He frowns. “Are you?”

Oliver opens his mouth to reply, but I place my hand in the crook of his arm. “It’s okay, Oliver. I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

He looks at me, showing no emotion, except the pain in his eyes. He was reluctant for me to come and re-live the past week, but I wanted to. I thought having him here, listening to it, would help but it’s only proved to make him more uneasy. Maybe it’s just being here in the SCPD that has him like this. Either way, he’ll be glad to leave.

“You’ve been through _so_ much.”

I gently squeeze his arm. “I know, but this needs to be done.”

He stares at me, pleading for us to leave. I smile reassuringly, which eases him slightly, and he nods. I look at Lance and nod.

“What were you doing at that house the night you were taken?” Lance asks.

I lick my lip. “I was lured there.”

“How?”

I shift in my seat and Oliver’s arm tenses. We both know we’re dangerously close to exposing our secret. Lance, seeing my discomfort, sighs.

“It was something to do with him, wasn’t it?”

“Who?”

“The Arrow,” he replies. “I know you help him.”

“I can’t confirm that.”

“Don’t worry, it stays between the three of us for now, but I recommend you have a better cover story when this goes to court.”

I’m shocked. “Court?”

Lance nods. “Logan Woodruff…well, Logan Waldmeister has been charged with mass murder, terrorism acts and kidnapping with the intent of murder. We’re looking at a high-profile case.”

“I…I’m not sure if I can be a witness.”

“You’ll be fine. It won’t be for several months and I’m happy to help you prepare if you’d like.”

I smile. “That’s very kind of you.”

He smiles. “You’ve been through a lot this last week.”

“It’s not too far out of what I’m used to.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I never thought I’d see a smart, sweet, young woman like you living such a dangerous life.” He glances at Oliver. “Then again, you’re friends with—”

“Do you have another question about my statement?”

He looks at me. “Are you sure you have no memory of the events that took place between the night you were taken and when…the Arrow saved you?”

Oliver shifts uncomfortably. I lick my lip. “I remember only moments, not enough to be of any use. He clearly kept me drugged for most of the week. I really only remember the last night, the night that…” I catch myself before saying Oliver. I swallow. “The night the Arrow saved me.”

Lance nods. “Go to the hospital after this and get tested. If we can find out what he’s drugged you with, we can use it as evidence for the trial.”

I nod. “I will.”

Lance looks over his notes. “That will do for now. If there’s anything else, I’ll call you and—”

“I’ll call if I remember anything else.”

He smiles. “The world is a better place with people like you in it, Ms Smoak.”

“All the more reason to be thankful she made it through the most terrifying week imaginable,” Oliver adds, placing a hand over mine in the crook of his arm.

I smile at him. “I’m resilient.”

Oliver smiles, one that speaks words unspoken – _You’re remarkable_.

“I’d watch out, Ms Smoak. Whenever he smiles like that, it’s always a precursor to trouble.”

I smile. “Thank you for your concern, but I can handle it.”

“You _sure_?”

“She can handle the Arrow,” Oliver says, eyes never shifting from me. “He thinks he’s the boss, but really it’s his IT genius.”

I blush.

“How would you know that?”

Oliver tenses and I freeze – _shit_. “She told me.”

Lance nods and I barely hide my sigh of relief. “Right, well…you are free to go.”

****

“Hopefully I won’t have to be there too long,” she says as we make our way out of the SCPD, “and then I’m _all_ _yours_.”

I smile. “Good, because I intend on spending the rest of the day in bed.”

She rolls her eyes at my implication and my smile grows before I wink. We turn a corner and I see _her_. Accompanied by an officer and looking a little disheveled; she looks her absolute worst. Ollie would feel sorry for her, offer to support her through this ‘tough time’, be the caring lover that Laurel Lance needed. But I’m no longer that man. The Ollie she knew – the Ollie the _city_ knew – died on Lian Yu six years ago. I’m a different man now.

I drape my arm over Felicity’s shoulders, pulling her flush against my right side as we walk down the corridor. As she walks towards us, Laurel’s eyes lock with mine and for a moment she looks pleadingly at me, seeking the help I would’ve gladly given her before the island, until she notices Felicity. I watch as shock spreads over her features – eyes widen and jaw drops – and I can’t hide my smirk. Her plan to remove Felicity from my life has failed and it’s so satisfying seeing her realize that.

“You’re…you’re alive,” Laurel says. “ _Alive_.”

Felicity’s attention snaps to the brunette. “Yes.”

“That’s good news for you, Laurel,” I say. “You’ll only be charged with accessory to attempted murder.”

She ignores me, saying to Felicity, “I’m glad.”

“ _Really?_ ”

“I _never_ wanted her dead, never wanted them to _kill_ her, Ollie!”

“Not even a _little_ bit? You were pretty quick to jump to that conclusion last night.”

“That’s because…the words he used _implied_ that he did!”

“Yeah, well, he _never_ would have had the _chance_ to do it if it _hadn’t_ been for _you!_ ”

She takes a step closer – Felicity backs away, and I instinctively shield her as the officer places a hand in warning on Laurel’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. We’re going,” I tell the officer.

He nods and lowers his hand.

“Goodbye, Laurel.”

Laurel’s lip trembles and I know she’s noticed the underlying message. She blinks away the tears. “Bye, Ollie.”

I make sure to bump her slightly as we pass, just hard enough to make her take a step back.

“You okay?” I ask, once we’re out of earshot as I pull her closer against my side.

She nods and pushes her glasses further up with a finger. “Yes.” She looks at me. “You?”

I sigh, brushing my knuckles lightly over her jaw. “I am now that you’re safe.”

She smiles, before resting her head against my shoulder. I place a kiss to the top of her head, thankful that I don’t have to add her name to the list of people I’ve lost.

****

**Months Later**

“Really?” I say, walking into Oliver’s office. “She took an early plea?”

He looks up from his desk, a slight frown evident. “You were listening in on that call?”

“Anyone that calls in reference to _her_ gets my attention. I hate mysteries, remember?”

The corners of his mouth tug slightly, even though he’s trying hard not to smile – but I see the spark in his eyes he gets whenever he smiles at me.

“Yes, she took an early plea. Though I don’t see why you’re even bothering to ask me, since you were listening to the _whole_ conversation.”

“Actually, once he used ‘Laurel’ and ‘early plea’ in the same sentence, I was a little too shocked to really hear anything else.”

This time he does smile. He stands and steps around his desk to me. He places his hands on my arms. “She was given two years, but her lawyer managed to get that reduced.”

“R-re- _reduced_?” I ask, surprised.

He nods. “Due to her…alcoholism…her lawyer struck a deal for it to be eighteen months in jail and then six months in rehab.”

I raise an eyebrow. “For arranging my kidnapping, she only gets…”

“Hey,” he whispers, pulling me into a hug. His arms band tightly around me, and I hold tightly onto his jacket, resting my head on his chest. “What happened to you may have started with her, but it was caused by, and ended with, Woodruff. There’s no way he will be getting out of this. Not even the best lawyer will be able to find a loophole.”

I nod, and then let out a shaky sigh.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, burying his face into the top of my head.

“I’m just…just thinking about tomorrow.” _I’m on the stand at the trial._

He steps back to look me in the eyes. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Is it?”

He cups my cheek with one hand. “I’m going to be with you the whole time. _Nothing_ is going to happen to you. I promise.”

****

Oliver’s hand on the small of my back as we step into the courtroom is my lifeline; the only thing keeping me together right now. I look around the room, daunted by the number of press gathered. Due to the high-profile nature of the case, they’d been allowed to be present for the entire trial. I look at Oliver, busy scanning the room himself, in awe of how he can keep so calm every time he steps in here. He senses my eyes on him and turns to look at me, giving me a small smile. I force myself to smile back.

“Hey,” he says quietly, leaning in to bring his lips to my ear. “I’m here. Don’t be scared.”

“We should sit down,” Diggle says, stepping up behind us. “They’re ready to begin.”

Oliver nods once, before taking my hand and leading me to the front row on the right of the room, right behind the Prosecution’s table. Oliver sits on my left and Diggle on my right. It’s comforting having them flanking me. If anything happens, they’ll ensure I’m safe.

Kelly Beckett, the Prosecutor, returns from speaking with the Defense lawyer when she notices that we’re here. She greets us with a warm smile.

“Felicity,” she says, as the three of us stand. “Oliver,” she adds, extending her hand.

“Beckett,” Oliver says with a nod as he shakes her hand.

“Now, I’ll be asking you questions first,” she says to me.

I nod.

“Cavanaugh will question you after me. He’s tough, but I’m tougher. He’s not going to get away with _anything_. Just remember my advice and you’ll be fine.”

I let out a shaky breath. Oliver’s hand touches the small of my back again, his thumb slowly moving back and forth soothingly.

A door across the room opens and a guard leads Woodruff out with another behind him. He’s handcuffed, one of those sets that has a chain connecting handcuffs to ones on his ankles, but even that doesn’t take much of his menacing presence away. Oliver hooks his arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and whispers in my ear. I realize I’m shaking slightly. I look over at Woodruff and find he’s staring right at me. He points at me and then slowly drags his finger across his neck. My stomach flips; his message received loud and clear. Oliver cups my chin and gently turns me to him. He stays quiet, seeking me to keep eye contact with him.

“Look at this side of the room. Okay, Felicity?” He says. “Don’t look his way. Don’t let him unsettle you. Show him the strong woman who I know and love.”

I nod, still rattled from Woodruff’s message. Oliver kisses my forehead.

“All rise,” the Bailiff says and the room falls silent as everyone stands.

The judge enters – _and so it begins…_

****

“Felicity!” I call after her, following her down the corridor outside the courtroom.

She stops at the end, dropping herself onto a bench seat under a window. She places her elbows on her knees and covers her face with her hands.

“That was _horrible!_ ” She exclaims from behind her hands as I sit down beside her.

“No, it wasn’t, Felicity,” I reply, gently rubbing her back.

“Seriously, Oliver?” She says, lifting her head and looking at me. “Cavanaugh just walked all over me and I babbled the _entire_ time! I made such a _fool_ of myself!” She buries her head in her hands again.

“You were good.”

She scoffs, face still in her hands.

“Felicity,” I say, trying to take her hands from her face. When she resists, I add, “Look at me.”

She sighs before lifting her head and looks at me. I cup her cheek. “Stop overanalyzing it. You didn’t make a fool of yourself. Defense lawyers are trained to be as hard as Cavanaugh was. You did a damn good job.” I smile. “Besides, you know that I find it cute when you babble.”

“I _shouldn’t_ be babbling like _that_ in the court room!”

I sigh. “Can you stop that?”

“Stop what?”

“That. The whole self-criticizing routine. You’re stressing yourself out when you don’t need to.”

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Stay so…so _damn_ calm in situations like this.”

I lean closer and quietly say, “I’ve had _plenty_ of experience being in stressful situations on the island. I’ve learned to keep focused…because it just might be the difference between life and death.”

She sighs as she leans her head on my shoulder. She slips her hand into mine, linking our fingers, and I press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“You really think that?” She asks after a minute. “That my time on the stand wasn’t a complete disaster?”

“Would I lie to you?”

She laughs slightly. “You _do_ remember our initial interactions, right?”

I smile slightly. “Would I lie to you about this?”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve lied to me…”

“Fe-lic-ity.”

“What? I’m being honest!”

“So am I. Trust me, it wasn’t a disaster.” I squeeze her hand reassuringly. “Count yourself lucky you’re not the one on trial. They ride you much harder.” She giggles. “What?”

“You do realize how much of a Freudian slip that sounded like, right?”

I smile. “Huh. Guess you’re rubbing off on me.”

She giggles and I kiss her forehead. She sighs. “Do we have to go back in?”

“He’ll be on the stand soon.”

She groans. “Are you trying to convince me into going back in? If so, it’s not working.”

“You want to miss Beckett grill him harder than Cavanaugh did with you?” I ask, raising my eyebrow. “She’s really good at it.”

She sighs, straightening up. “Fine, but I’m going under protest.”

I get up, turning to stand in front of her as I still hold her hand. “Get through this and I’ll buy you dinner.”

She pouts. “You should be doing that already.” She frowns slightly, thinking. “Actually…you’ve always bought dinner…”

I smile. “I do,” I say before pulling her to her feet, hooking my arm round her waist to steady her when she starts to topple forward. “Just not as your boyfriend.”

“Really? You want me to call you my boyfriend?”

I chuckle. “Felicity, we _are_ dating…”

“Yes, but I didn’t think that we were—” I cut her off by kissing her. She rolls onto her tiptoes, hands sliding into my hair, and I hold her tighter. When we part, her cheeks are flushed. “I could get used to you doing that. Cutting me off with a kiss.”

I smile, cupping her cheek. “I couldn’t wait,” I whisper.

She smiles before giving me a quick kiss. “Let’s go back in before I change my mind…or decide to go home.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Did I just hear you right? Was that you suggesting we sneak off?”

She smiles seductively and I press my lips tight to suppress a moan. I step back and slip my hand into hers. We walk side-by-side back into the court room.

“You can’t prove my involvement,” Woodruff says as we return to our seats.

“Shall I list the evidence that proves not only your involvement, Mr. Waldmeister, but also that you’re the _mastermind_ of it all?” Beckett asks.

Woodruff shrugs. _Smug bastard_. “By all means, please do.” He tilts his chin up slightly. “I do have the right to tell you you’re wrong, though, and I fully intend on doing that.”

“There’s the statement made by Ms. Lance—”

He scoffs. “You’re going to take the word of a wannabe lawyer, with a drug and alcohol addiction, over _me_?” He asks, placing his hand on his chest as he says ‘me’. “What has this world come to?”

“Urgh, _really_?” Felicity hisses. “Does he _really_ think he can wriggle out of this with that act?”

“He’ll do whatever it takes to survive,” Dig replies.

“Yeah, well I hope the jury doesn’t buy it. He deserves to rot in hell.”

I squeeze her hand reassuringly. She looks at me and smiles. I smile back.

“… and then there’s the fact that you were found inside the building by police, with a gunshot wound and an arrow in your leg.”

He raises his eyebrow. “That is _very_ misleading. I could’ve been framed by the _real_ mastermind.”

“ _Could’ve_?” Beckett asks, eyebrow raised. “Are you saying there’s doubt in whether or not you were framed?”

“No, I was framed.”

“Yet you said that you _could’ve_ been framed.”

“I was making a point that your evidence doesn’t necessarily point to me being guilty.”

“If you are innocent, Mr. Waldmeister, why not just say ‘I was framed by the real mastermind’ rather than ‘could’ve been’?”

“OBJECTION!” Cavanaugh says, standing and placing his hands on his table.

“On what grounds?” Beckett asks. “I merely sought confirmation on the accused’s wording. Call it clarification for the jury.”

“Overruled,” the Judge says. “Please continue your questions.”

Beckett looks at Cavanaugh, who stares at her for a minute before sitting. Beckett turns back to Woodruff. “Please answer my question.”

“Like I said, I was making a point.”

Beckett shrugs. “That doesn’t explain why you chose those words over the far more direct wording.”

“That was not a question.”

“My apologies. Let me rephrase that for you,” she replies and I smirk at her sarcasm. “Why did you not chose the definite statement of your innocence in favor for one that casts self-doubt?”

“Man, she’s good,” Felicity whispers.

“I told you she’s good,” I whisper back.

“Yes, but…I wasn’t expecting her to be _this_ good.”

“There are five co-accused and one victim who can identify you as the mastermind of this whole operation,” Beckett continues. “That’s six people who swear in this court room that you are the one responsible for the lives lost.”

“Objection! There was no question in that!” Cavanaugh shouts.

Beckett raises her hand. “I was just getting to my question, Your Honor. Had I not been interrupted by the Defense, I would have said it.”

“Proceed,” the Judge says.

“Are you willing to go on record, under oath, that those six people are wrong?”

He lifts his chin a little higher. “Yes.”

Felicity scoffs. “Liar.”

“I find it hard to believe that _one_ person out of _seven_ is telling the truth when he’s the odd one out.”

“Conspiracy to see me take the blame.”

“For two acts that you were the mastermind of?”

“You don’t know that! It’s speculation!”

“There’s a _lot_ of evidence that proves that you are.”

“Just as there’s a lot of evidence that _denies_ it.”

Beckett takes several steps towards him. “What would you say if I told you that I had a recording of your confession?”

Woodruff raises his eyebrow. “When is this from?” He pouts slightly. “I haven’t confessed _anything_ to the SCPD.”

“Objection!” Cavanaugh says as he gets to his feet. “This is all hearsay!”

Beckett turns to the Judge. “It’s not hearsay, Your Honor. It was hypothetical leading to a piece of evidence.”

“Please present this evidence to the court now,” the Judge replies.

Beckett nods, before crossing to her desk, as Cavanaugh takes his seat again. She picks up a small recorder and walks back to where she’d been standing. “This is Exhibit 483,” she says, holding the recorder up for all to see. She presses play.

“So what if that little brat gives it all up to them. This place is rigged. All I have to do is press one button and it’ll go… _Boom_ ,” Woodruff’s voice comes out of the recorder and I instantly recognize it as the night I saved Felicity. “You, her and every piece of evidence linking me to all of this _and_ the bombings will all go up, while I make my escape. By the time –”

“Where did you get this?” Cavanaugh says, leaping to his feet. “I wasn’t informed of this piece of evidence and it’s not from the SCPD.”

“That’s because it comes from a different source,” Beckett replies, turning to look at Cavanaugh.

“Your Honor—”

The Judge raises his hand to silence Cavanaugh. He looks at Beckett and says, “Please state the source of the evidence for the court.”

“The source is the Arrow—”

“OBJECTION!” Cavanaugh’s voice booms through the room. “How can a recording made by the _vigilante_ be used as evidence in any court case?”

“Your Honor,” Beckett says. “I agree that the source isn’t very reliable in the eyes of the law—”

“Then _why_ waste the court’s time playing it?” Cavanaugh interrupts.

“If you had allowed me to finish, I would have gone on to say that there are many reasons why it is evidence,” Beckett replies. “There are three key reasons. One, it proves _exactly_ the type of character the accused is. Two, it proves that he attempted to erase _all_ evidence that would link him to both crimes he has been charged for. Had he been successful, he’d walk out of here a free man instead of facing the future he deserves.”

“You’re misleading the jury with that last bit.”

“Am I?” Beckett asks, turning to face the jury. “Am I not merely stating my reasoning behind why I brought this evidence to light?” The jury, however, are not allowed to answer. Beckett turns back to Cavanaugh. “The third key reason is that, in the eyes of the SCPD, the Arrow is no longer deemed a vigilante. The anti-vigilante task force was disbanded by Captain Lance not too long ago. So your argument of dismissal is wrong. The Arrow can be deemed as a member of the community.”

Cavanaugh scoffs. “Can we _really_ call a _murderer_ \- who for the last two years has been allowed to, and _continues_ to, run around this city, acting like he is _above_ the law - a member of this community? Is he _really_ any better than _anyone_ who is convicted of committing a crime?”

“He’s better than any criminal because, unlike people such as the accused, the Arrow protects this city from the criminals like your client.”

Cavanaugh scoffs again. “He should leave it to the SCPD!”

“Who don’t have the resources to do _half_ of what the city needs them to be doing!”

“And why was I not informed that this piece of ‘evidence’ even existed?”

“I am _not_ on trial here, Cavanaugh! In case you’ve forgotten, it’s _your_ client.”

“I still demand that I get an explanation as to why I was kept out of the loop in regards to this.”

“You were not informed because I only received this evidence this morning.”

I lean closer to Felicity, and whisper, “How _did_ she get that recording?”

“I may have taken our recording and cut together some of it and sent it to her,” she whispers back. “Anonymously, of course.”

I smile. “Nice.”

She smiles back. “Thanks.”

****

He bolts up, my name escaping his lips in a strangled cry that yanks me out of sleep. I roll over, looking at him through half-shut eyes. He’s tense, plagued by another nightmare. I reach out, gently placing my hand on his bare back in comfort, and I feel his muscles tighten as he jumps in fright, his head whipping around to look at me as his arm moves slightly, ready to strike. The tension fades when his eyes focus on mine. He lets out a shaky breath before lying back down. I roll over to face him, shifting to press myself against his side and use his shoulder as a pillow, as his arm bands around behind me.

“Talk to me,” I whisper.

He sighs. “I don’t want to burden you with it.”

I lift my head and look at him. “You don’t have to carry all those burdens alone, Oliver.”

He cups my cheek, the slightest smile tugging his lips. “I can’t stop the dreams where I…” His eyes glass over with tears.

“Hey, shhh,” I whisper, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I’m here. I’m safe.”

“I know, but I…” he sighs. “I can’t… I _almost_ lost you. I know I’ve come close to losing you before, but… it was different this time. For a while, I thought I _had_ lost you and…”

I crash my lips against his. He immediately parts his to let my tongue slide in as he pulls me tighter against him, lifting me up to lie on top of him. I pull back, and whisper, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He pulls me back down into a rough kiss. He pushes inside me and I moan as he completely fills me – _oh, how I’ve longed to feel this again!_ His thrusts are slow at first, getting increasingly faster, and then we’re both moaning from the intensity of the pleasure. His hands slide down to my butt, kneading my cheeks, and a long moan bubbles up my throat as the pleasure shoots through all of me. It doesn’t take long for both of us to hit our climax, both crying out as we hit. I collapse against him, resting my head over his heart, and I listen to it beat as he wraps both arms around me. I _never_ want to be separated from him ever again. I’m at home in his arms.

****

“Madam Foreman, have you reached a verdict?” The Judge says.

“We have, your Honor,” the Foreman replies as she stands, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. “We find in the case of _The State vs Logan Waldmeister_ …”

She pauses, for dramatic effect, but it’s long enough for me to hear the all too familiar sound of a rocket approaching the window.

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!!!” I yell, reaching for Felicity.

The court room’s filled with people screaming as everyone scrambles to get down – but my focus is on Felicity as I push her onto the floor, shielding her with my body.

Seconds later, an explosion tears through the court room and everything goes black.

 

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Oh, and in case you noticed the chapter #s have gone up -- yep, there's gonna be a few more chapters. Have had ch 7 planned out for a while, but I just got talked into doing an Epilogue by one of my friends. (the idea was rattling round my head, but I had my doubts -- she talked me into doing it, even though this story's becoming a vacuum for my time... it's been almost a year since I started it!)
> 
> Hopefully ch 7 will be up faster than this was!!! LOL.


	7. The Sun Will Rise Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the penultimate chapter, Felicity is faced with a life changing news... *possibly*. Plus Oliver goes hunting for the escaped Woodruff/Waldmeister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, I apologize for how long I haven't updated this. I've neglected this, and I don't think any reason could possibly be given for my lack of work on this.
> 
> Second, this is going up with only my proofreading done. I'm not gonna get my beta, Kate, to read it. Mainly because I feel SUPER guilty for not having it up already. So excuse any mistakes.
> 
> Enjoy.

**The Morning Of The Verdict**

“Leave it,” he says, locking eyes with me via the mirror in front of me. “It’s fine.”

“Says the man who looks perfectly stunning in _anything_ …” I mutter, tugging at my dress once more.

His hands slip over mine, stopping them, as his chest touches my back. “Will you stop fussing?”

“Can’t. I’m nervous,” I reply. “I either fuss or babble… or both.”

He smirks. “You know I love it when you babble,” he says. “It’s cute.”

My eyebrow shoots up. “ _Cute_?”

“You are beautiful,” he says, between kisses up my neck. “Everything about you is beautiful to me.”

I hum contentedly, relaxing back into him and he wraps his arms around me. “Careful what you do, Oliver. I just might decide we should spend the day in bed.”

“Much as that’s _very_ tempting,” he kisses my neck again, “and you know I’d do anything to make that happen, it’s good closure for us to be there today.”

I groan, remembering exactly what we’re getting ready for – the verdict. One last day in court. Then life can get back to normal… or our normal.

_Coffee._ _I need coffee._

“Huh?” He asks, and I realize I must’ve said ‘coffee’ out loud.

“I need coffee.”

He nods. “I’ll get you some.”

He slowly withdraws, sliding his hands over my hips in a silent _I don’t want to leave you_ , and I miss his touch as soon as its gone. I tug at my dress again, still not satisfied that it’s sitting right, and that’s when it hits – world spins and I feel like I could throw up. I close my eyes and take slow, deep breaths – in through my nose, out through my mouth. This isn’t the first time since… all of _this_ started that I’ve felt this way. Nor will it be the last.

This one feels… _different_.

_Metallic_.

Metallic taste… _ohhhhh_.

I grab my cell, flicking quickly to my calendar and check the last time I had my period. I mark it with a simple ‘p’ on the start date. I count the weeks from the last ‘p’ until today’s date. I close my eyes. _Late_.

It’s normal to be late sometimes, right? I shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions. I could just be late, not… _pregnant_.

“Everything okay?”

I open my eyes, finding him standing right in front of me holding two cups of coffee.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine.” _Should I tell him? And say what? ‘Oh hey, I think I might be pregnant. But it could also just be that I’m late.’_

He frowns, concerned. “You sure?”

I nod. “Yes. I’m just… nervous.”

“About today? You shouldn’t.” He places the cups on the set of draws. He turns back to me, placing his hands on my arms below my shoulders. “We’ve got him. He’s not getting away.”

I nod.

He steps closer. “He’ll be in jail for the rest of his life soon, and you know what we’ll be doing? We’ll be saving this city… giving him plenty of cellmates.”

I nod, forcing myself to smile a little. He places a long kiss on my forehead.

****

I swallow. _Hard_. Once we step through those doors, there’s no going back. The three of us – Dig, Oliver and I – are standing in a row facing the doors into the courtroom. I’ve wanted today to come so badly over the last few months, but… now that it’s here, I wish it wasn’t. I think about all the ways today could go horribly wrong.

The gentle squeeze of my hand draws me from my thoughts. I instinctively look at my hand, finding Oliver’s wrapped around mine. I look up, meeting his gaze. He smiles and I return it.

“Ready to go in?” He asks.

I look back at the doors, take a deep breath in and then nod. We head for the doors, but I stop after a couple of steps. Oliver stops and looks at me, brow furrowed with concern.

“Can we… can I talk to you for a minute?”

He glances at Dig, who is already heading into the court. He turns back to me. “What’s wrong, Felicity?”

_Tell him now. Tell him you think you might be pregnant._ But no matter how much I want to, I just can’t bring myself to do it. Because I know that Oliver would whisk us away from this courthouse and find out for sure. I need the closure that today provides. Then we can focus on this.

“Felicity?” His voice and hand on my cheek pulls me from my thoughts. Then he whispers, “Talk to me.”

“Um… no-nothing.”

He frowns.

“It can wait till after this.”

He narrows his eyes. “You sure?” There’s that tone he only uses with me – the gentle, calming one.

I nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah. It can wait.”

He looks at me for a moment, quietly deciding to believe it. If he doesn’t he doesn’t say, just wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me in close and kisses my temple. We walk into the courtroom like that, Diggle smirking and trying to hide his chuckle.

****

**PRESENT**

_Pain_.

_Panic_.

All those terrifying memories and emotions. Dragged back up again. Only… _worse_.

“FELICITY!” Oliver shouts, and I feel his hands on my cheeks.

I gasp, opening my eyes. I squint – _so much light_. What happened to the filtered light of the courtroom we were in?

Oliver’s face comes into focus, dust in his hair and across his face. But he’s looking at me with panic and worriedness.

I groan. “Wha… what happened?”

“Missile. Hit the room.”

“WHAT?!” I ask, eyes wide.

He nods. “Someone was so desperate to get Waldmeister out, they attacked the whole courthouse. I heard it coming. Saved a lot of lives.” He then adds, with a smile. “Including you.”

I remember Dig was with us. Panic sets in again. “Dig?”

Oliver looks off at something and I panic, trying to get up. But Oliver places his hands on my shoulders to keep me down.

“Where is he?! Tell me, Oliver! _Please_!”

Dig comes into my view. Upside down, but alive and well… except for the nasty looking cut on his forehead.

“See? We’re all fine,” Oliver says. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Apart from the fact that someone used a _missile_ to _blow up_ our courtroom!!!!”

“Hey, calm down.”

“ _Calm down?_ How can you – _Get. Off. Me!_ ” I snap, pushing at his arms.

He sighs and withdraws his hands to his legs. I sit up, closing my eyes as I feel woozy. I feel Oliver’s hand cupping my elbow. I slowly open my eyes, before shifting to sit facing them, feet between them.

“Whoever did this,” Oliver says, locking eyes with me. “They messed with the wrong people.” He cups my cheek with his other hand. “I promise you, I’m going to find who did this.”

I turn into his hand, closing my eyes and softly humming.

“ _We’re_ going to find who did this.”

****

“You alright?” Detective Lance asks me as he walks up to them. They’d stayed back at the courthouse to speak to police even though Oliver wanted to get onto the hunt for Waldmeister.

I nod. “I’m f-fine.”

Lance looks concerned. “You don’t sound like it.”

“Honestly, Detective. It’s just shock.”

He nods. “Alright, the other officers say you’re all free to go.”

Oliver relaxes slightly next to me.

Lance sternly looks at Oliver. “You look after her.”

Oliver nods once, sharply. “Always do.”

Lance raises an eyebrow. “I doubt how effective that is, given what led to this trial. But I know you’re not the only one watching over her.”

And with that, he leaves. Oliver turns me around and guides me down the hallway, Dig close behind.

“Let’s head back to Verdant and get onto tracking down Waldmeister,” he says low enough for only us to hear. “We’ve wasted enough time.”

“I can access my computers from my cell,” I reply. “I can get a search started before we’re even there.”

“Brilliant,” he says with a smile, as he pushes the doors out of the courthouse open.

We’re confronted by a group of reporters gathered halfway down the front steps.

Oliver sighs. “Perfect,” he mutters. “Just what we need.”

He and Dig share a look, before the two position themselves either side of me as Oliver places a hand on my lower back. We head down the steps, aiming to slip past the reporters. But they spot us, and all rush towards us as they ask questions. Oliver shifts closer to me, using his and Dig’s bodies as a human shield for me as we head for our waiting car.

My head starts to throb as we struggle down the stairs, surrounded like a swarm of bees by the reporters. I try to ignore it – it’s never a good idea to show any sort of weakness when surrounded by the media. One of the benefits of all the experience Oliver’s had with them – I’ve learnt from his mistakes.

We reach the car, Dig swiftly opening the back door. Oliver’s hand never leaves my back until I slip into the back seat, Oliver joining me a few seconds later. Dig slips into the front passenger seat and we’re rolling a few seconds later.

My headache intensifies then, and I close my eyes as I rub my temples.

“You okay?” Oliver asks, his hand on my back.

“Headache,” I mumble.

“How long have you had it?” He’s rubbing my back gently.

“Not long.”

He sighs. Then he’s pulling my hands down and gently turning my chin to look at him.

“I’ve seen you staring at our computer screens for eight hours, and not complained _once_ about a headache you’d been feeling for almost three hours,” he says. “You, Felicity Meaghan Smoak, do not let a headache get to you this fast.”

I sigh. “Okay…. Since the explosion.”

His brow furrows with concern. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“It was mild till just now. I could handle it till those reporters started yelling!” I reply. “And besides, what were you going to do? We had to stay there till the police were done talking to us.”

“I don’t know,” he replies with a sigh. “I could’ve helped you… rubbed you temples, given you pain relief tablets…”

“Honestly, Oliver. I’m fine.”

“No.”

“No?”

“It could be a concussion.”

I scoff.

“Dig! Pull over, please.”

“Oliver! What—”

The car pulls over. Dig looks over his shoulder at us. “What’s wrong?”

“She has a headache,” Oliver replies. “One she’s been feeling since the accident. It could be a sign of a concussion. Please take her to the hospital.”

“But—”

“ _Fe-lic-city_ ,” he says, sternly. “I love you. Please just do this.”

“What about—”

“You said you can get the search started from your cell.”

“Yes, but—”

“So you can still do that,” he interjects. “On your way to the hospital.”

“I’m fine, Oliver!”

He cups my face with both hands. “Don’t argue with me,” he whispers.

He kisses me. Before I know it, he’s slipping away, the door gently clicking shut. The car pulls away, and I stare out the back window at him, still standing there watching us, until he slips out of my sight.

****

I watch our car drive away. My heart wants to be with her, but I need to get this done. I’ve lost too much time already. I need to find Waldmeister. _Verdant_ isn’t too far from here – just a short cab ride, so I hail a cab.

Very rarely does ‘the Arrow’ come out in the middle of the day, but today is an exception. Justice needs to be done – swiftly and as soon as possible.

****

**Several Hours Later**

I watch them from the hallway in the hospital for a few minutes, watching the trio talk as the soft light from the sunset makes her blond locks shine like gold. I smile – we may not be related by blood, but _there’s more than one kind of family._ We truly are a family. I cross the hallway, lightly tapping on the door as I step inside. Felicity’s eyes snap to mine, her whole face lighting up. She reaches out for me as I approach, pulling me in for a long kiss.

“Did you?” She asks, forehead pressed against mine.

I nod. She smiles.

“Did what?” Roy asks, confused.

I pull back and look at Dig and Roy. I inhale a deep breath, hold and exhale. I smile. “Let’s just say, Waldmeister won’t be causing any more trouble,” I say. “ _Ever_.”

Roy furrow his brow. “Define that,” he says. “Cause… often that means you’ve put someone six feet under.”

I smile. “Don’t worry about it, Roy.”

“But—”  
I glare at him and he silences. I turn to Felicity. “How are you?”

She nods. “I’m fine.”

She glances at Dig. He smiles at her and I frown.

“Come on, Roy,” Dig says. “How about I give you an extra training session?”

“Uh, no.”

Dig chuckles, before placing his hands firmly on Roy’s shoulders – the latter jerking forward slightly – and guides the younger man towards the door.

“Have fun!” I sarcastically call out to them.

Dig waves to us, his other hand still on Roy’s shoulder. I chuckle as I turn back to Felicity.

“You gonna explain what that was about?”

“What?” She replies. “I dunno why—”

“You gave Dig a look, and then he made up an excuse for him and Roy to leave.”

She looks sheepish. “Oh,” she says. “That.”

“Yes, that.”

She pats the edge of her bed. I sit down, placing a hand on her thigh and gently rub it. Her silence worries me.

“What’s going on?” I ask, concerned.

She hesitates for a moment, avoiding eye contact. She then looks up at me.

“I have something to tell you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure of you will be a little disappointed with the structure of this - the lack of how Oliver gets him - but I just want to put something up right now. And I kinda like the mystery it gives... Form your own version, much like Oliver leaves Roy to do.
> 
> There's one more chapter coming. A nice little wrap up of the final mystery.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this about a year ago, though the idea of it really came to me several months prior (in case you don't remember, Stephen Amell dropped a tease about 'Tremors'). Back when I came up with the idea, it was just a one-shot. But my friends on twitter convinced me to continue it (a few people, like Kate (my beta) and Skylicity spring to mind when I consider how vocal some were), and here we are, nine months later.
> 
> This is very bittersweet. It marks my final update for this fic, and I'm sad to see it go... but at the same time happy to have knocked out another chapter so soon after ch 7.
> 
> So please enjoy this little bonus chapter. I had a dream a few months back, which inspired this chapter (another friend on twitter encouraged me to use it as a part of this fic).
> 
> Oh, and make sure you have tissues on hand. I cried while writing the last little bit. Not cause I was ending my biggest Olicity project, but because of WHAT I was writing.
> 
> So enjoy. I look forward to reading your feedback.

**9(ish) Months Later…**

**1:05 AM**

“O-O-Oliver?” Her voice comes over the comms, and all I register is how shaken she sounds.

I slap the spot on my chest to activate my comms. “Felicity? What’s wrong?”

“Are… you… done?” She’s panting now.

“Yes,” I reply, collecting what I came for. I then head for the door, stepping over one of the three men I’d knocked out moments ago. “On my way home now.”

“Good.”

“Everything alright?”

She cries out in pain, causing me to halt. “ _Felicity?_ ” I ask, panic rising.

“Ollllllliiiiiiiiiiiiiivvvvvvvvveeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr!!!!” She screams.

“FELICITY!!!!” I shout, desperation setting in. “What’s going on?”

There are several noises, and then I can hear Dig’s voice as well as Felicity’s pain-filled cries.

“Oliver,” Dig says.

“Dig!” I reply, relieved to hear he’s with her. “What’s going on? Is Felicity okay?”

“That would be the sound of—” He’s cut off by Felicity’s loud scream. “Breathe, Felicity. Breathe.”

“I _am_ breathing!” She snaps.

“HEY!!!!” I shout, my voice booming in the empty space. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”

“I’m moving from the latent phase to the active phase,” Felicity says.

“ _What_?” I ask, confused.

“She’s in labor,” Dig says. I picture his bemused look as Felicity once more out-smarts me.

“Like you couldn’t just _say_ that, Felicity!”

“Oh, well, _excuuuuuuuuusssssseeee_ me if I want to be _ACCURATE!_ ”

“How long have you been in… labor?”

She hesitates – I’m not sure if it’s due to labor pains or not wanting to tell me. “Well… from the start of the latent phase… about twenty hours.”

“ _Twenty_?!”

“This _is_ my first pregnancy, Oliver!” She snaps. “It’s completely normal for it to last that long! And the contractions have only just gotten more frequent and stronger over the last couple of hours.”

“And you didn’t think it was worth mentioning, oh I don’t know, _before I left_?!”

“ _HEY!_ ” Dig booms. He continues normally. “We all know how stubborn she is, Oliver…. No offense.”

“None taken,” she replies, sarcastically.

“She’d never leave the team when there’s a mission,” Dig says. “So let’s just focus on the present. You two can argue later on… if you even remember.”

“Okay, honey. You go with Dig to the hospital. I’ll meet you there.”

“ _What? Nooooooooo!_ ”

“ _Fel-isssssssss-ity!_ ” I say, heading to my motorbike waiting outside. “This is _not_ a discussion! You’ve stayed there long enough! Just go with Dig!”

There’s a moment of silence. “ _Fine!_ ” She exclaims, practically screaming. “But you better get there before it’s time or I _will_ make you pay, Oliver Jonas Queen!”

“I promise you, Felicity, that I _will_ be there in time to see our baby’s birth.”

“Oh, you better. I’ll make five years on Lian Yu look like child’s play,” she mutters, just before the comms shut down.

****

**5:15 AM**

She looks so beautiful. She’s asleep. Despite the long night, I can’t sleep. I look down at the little girl asleep in my arms. _Our_ little girl.

Felicity had turned down knowing the sex in advance, saying she wanted to be surprised. When she was six months pregnant, Felicity insisted we pick out several names for each sex – so we’d be prepared for the birth. We’ve already chosen one for our little princess.

Erin Moira Queen.

 _You know, Erin means ‘peace’,_ Felicity said earlier. _I think that’s appropriate._

I smile as I look down at little Erin.

_Maybe she’ll bring peace to Starling City._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so... that's it.
> 
> Let's all take a moment to say farewell to 'When The Sun Goes Down'. I'm gonna miss writing this. (even though I slacked off for at least half the time it's taken me to write this story... whoops!)


End file.
